my wife and i just moved from waco, texas to richmond, virginia. we drove- two vehicles, she in her car, and i in the rental moving truck. currently an excessive selection of memoirs and such from road trips offer fantastic reflections of what it's like to hit the open road in some capacity. further, much of the music that i consider great, was likely written and refined on the road. personally, i often find myself thinking about the interconnectedness of roads, highways, interstates, driveways and even sidewalks- not in a religious tone, but in a structural sense. that's a huge construction. its hard for me to imagine a larger, more expansive project... instead of a poem from the trek, id like to make a confession. "i could be a trucker." the thickness of my beard, lacking; my rough-neck attitude, sub-par; my bladder, shallow. many of my long-haul trucker archetypes do not align with the profession. but there is something sexy about the tv show ice r
financial reports indicate the comanche, texas newspaper is projecting bankruptcy next year after the loss of their one and only customer. i suspect a drop in ear plug sales across the metroplex. i am also told that parked cars, street signs, and garage doors everywhere sighed with relief when "granny" died. i will forever wish that i had a picture of the rear end of her car that "she never hit anyone with." "when you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who i am with you, that i have left some mark of who i am on who you are. it means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. it means that if we meet again, you will know me. it means that even after i die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart. for as long as you remember me, i am never en
i've only grieved second hand. i've held the hand of an unknown spouse as her beloved was unplugged. i've told the boy that dad was dead, and he could see him soon. i've called the friend of a friend, for a friend, when she didn't know. i remember watching my brother, mother, father and friend. this week i put on my suit twice, but the tears were not my own. they are my only gift to you. i am so sorry. i can't imagine. i hope-
Comments
Post a Comment