We've pulled up at a Stuckey's somewhere along Texas' miles and miles of highways, and after everyone has chowed down their shakes and hot dogs, the Ramones break ranks to check the place out. Sitting at a table and chain-smoking along with Tommy (cigarettes are taboo in the Ramonesmobile, which has taken the lads to just about every nook and cranny of the continent on this, this first real cross country tour of the U.S.), I can tell just by the looks emanating from the faces of everyone in the joint, from employees to customers, that even though none of them have any idea who these leather-jacketed, t-shirted, jeaned and sneakered weirdos are, it's certainly the highlight of their day.