My old bus, “Be ye not the first to try the latest, nor the last to cast the old aside” is what my grandmother used to tell me, something truly special about being the owner of an old hoopie that is no longer in production. Just below the surface, where most people do not bother to look you can find … A small part of me, that yearns to get behind the wheel of a nice, shiny high-dollar Pig Iron Pony. A quiet soul that would love head out on the interstate and just let it run … Maybe some day in the next life? Certainly it will not be today.
Here is today’s Riveting Discussion … Torture Time Again … Things I love
The smell of fresh rain on a country road in the summertime.
Songbirds in the tree on the west-side of the house
The view from the top of the hill at the Riverside in Laughlin Nevada.
The husky sound of a woman’s laugh in the dark.
Little children at play.
Long stretches of two lane at dusk
the sound of a big Detroit workin a hill outside of Bozeman
fresh popcorn poppin,
mis-spelled words in Bus Conversion Magazines
Setting the Jake and listening to her bark as she drops off the hill.
High-dollar fuel, bad roads, lousy weather, take the edge off life
Aluminum wheels and shaved rivets
crowded truck stops and radared chicken fry’s
polished wheels excite my senses
I like the look of Albuquerque, New Mexico, after dark from the top of nine mile hill … Same with Las Cruces and The College Exit in Henderson Nevada.
Porpoising on the Interstate in Livingston, Wyoming, running I-20 east out of Houston.
Winning lottery tickets
(Hey … This is my fantasy, remember that.)
“It’s all downhill from Van Horn Texas.”
Diesel mechanics who smile and say, “Ah, this aint nuthin.”
Halter tops and cut off Levi’s
Bacon fryin and the smell of burnt toast in the kitchen,
No one in line ahead of me at the fuel desk
mashed potatoes and dark rich gravy
straight lines and shiny stainless steel
The smell of diesel exhaust early in the morning
a cup of fresh brewed coffee.
Country Music, Miranda Lambert, Carrie Underwood
NASCAR, CMT Video’s, old time Rock n Roll
long, slow wet kisses in the dark,
Stories told late at night around a dying campfire
Cracker Barrel stores
Stainless Steel (no seriously, did I mention stainless steel?)
the wife humming softly at the kitchen sink
fried apples in thick syrup.
Meeting another truck on a hill late at night, and he says, “Aint nuthin’ back there driver but a whole lot of dark.”
All that … is a Rainy Day slice of life … And some of it even makes me smile.
Thanks to Tom at Prevost Community for the photo credit.