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 t...
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. ...
i can't possibly know the depths of any one person at any given moment. we are given the surface, in its infinite value. how someone speaks, stands or slaps hands. any and all of this can clue us, if we receive it. but there is more. there are moments where i am the privileged. as a chaplain- as a friend- minister- brother. i with the rare, inside lane. most difficult, for i cannot protect, though the helper in me is add. ever wanting to do anything. not because i can actually assist, but because i feel better than nothing. the honor denies my contrived duty. these are the great opportunities. not to help or fix or save. rather, i can only marvel. at the power of another to live in with and under.
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