<p>During a cross-country drive in July 1989, my car broke down in the Arizona desert sometime around noon. My cat, Miles, who had long, black fur, was not pleased. I managed to find a phone and call a tow truck, and during the long, slow, non-air-conditioned ride to the nearest service station, with Miles panting at my side, I had plenty of time to take in the scenery: row after row of cotton.</p>