Look now for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing … O rest beside the weary toad and hear the angels sing … Old buses always seem to run faster on the way home, and most of the time, the road always seems to stay the same.
Looking down and checking the gauges and everything looks normal, volts are up, temps are down and the fuel gauge just a notch off of full. Reaching over to the dash, I grab a fresh stick of bubble gum out of the pink carton which is lying on top of the Flyin Hooker fuel card next to my wallet.
Suddenly a wave of sadness rolls over me like a hot summer breeze. All summer long I have been spoon feeding the fuel card, a hundred here, fifty there, give up a couple of twenties and now there it lies.
Like a three day old dead fish. Spent. Empty. D.O.A. at the next pump it finds. The needle wiggles a little just under “full” and we head west.
Fortunately the weather is nice, not a lot of wind, lite traffic. Caffeine Free Diet Coke in the drink tray and a fresh stick of gum, I am good for a hundred miles at least. Nothing like a full tank, groceries in the box, and the road she calls to me like a lover in the dark.
Today is much better than yesterday, yesterday was a little shop of horrors and not a whole lot of interstate fun. First the left lane was shut down in fifteen hundred feet for what appeared to be “no reason at all.” Then some idiot freight hauler who very much intent on getting into the lane I was occupying pushes his way into my world.
So I let him in, this monkey fresh outta the truck driving academy. Where they taught him how to double clutch (not, most freight haulers are running air shift/automatic’s these days) showed him how to jack-knife and bump the dock (again … most likely will leave it in some company lot) and cheerfully assigned him a super secret CB Code name (which also doesn’t make sense because he is gonna be on a cellphone most of the time).
He comes over without so much as a thank you. Don’t you just hate it when everyone wants to play “Who has the best insurance.”
Now the road funnels down to what I call “kind of skinny,” a hard concrete barrier on the right. Backing down on the throttle, I ease over to the left and start taking my fair share out of the middle. Which is not making me a lot of friends in the trucking community behind me at the time.
Some would consider this maneuver a little bit rude at best, but there is a valid reason.
The last time this happened, I tried to be a “good buddy” and share it all with them, and they in turn tried to bully me into the concrete barrier which we all know is not a good deal. So now, I take my share out of the middle, I meet the legal limits for construction areas and if they do not like it, then I guess they can call someone about it.
But no, they would rather imply on the C.B. that my parents were never married (which I usually turn off early in the game anyway) and threaten me with mortal harm. Meanwhile we just motor along and I think to myself … Are we having fun yet?
Eventually the road opens up, I signal a right turn and head into the Pokie Okie lane and three hard chargers come roaring by, and indicate to me that Old Eagle Buses are #1 this day in the Land of Enchantment. I just smile and crank up the CD Player.
Six O’clock PM … I need to hunt some parking, wife wants to watch Dancin’ With The Stars and I am gonna cop me some rest. I am so glad that VISA raised my limits and my therapist changed my anxiety meds, this is gonna be the best Christmas yet.
Have a good weekend, watch them right handers.
13 on the floor! The other one out the door … Hammer down, Hammer down!
This time of the year is terribly hard on a guy, especially a guy who has the wanderlust gene like myself. I want to get out and roam, although I know that this is no longer a reality, it is not possible in this day and age. So I fritter the days away sitting on the porch and I find other ways to amuse myself, like wondering, “What is the longest English word you can type with only the left hand?”
Important issues like that.
Spring time. Back in the day I would find myself lying on a blanket with some sweet thing and we would be whispering into each other ears, sonnets and secret phrases, but alas, they are gone too. Now I wonder if the old air conditioner will make it thru another season? How much water I am going to have to put on the lawn this year, to green it up and keep it that way. Why women find it impossible to sleep in a bed that has a fan blowing across it.
I secretly pine for Montana, it is never far away in my thoughts, often just around the corner. The pale blue sky opening up over Bozeman seems to stretch forever. The air is fresh and clean at the top of Bear Tooth Pass outside Red Lodge and the roads empty before, now most likely are bare altogether. A long BNSF freight racing across the land at breakneck speed to Chicago, clear water streams and long hot summer days.
In the summer, you can drive across southern Montana and the haystack dotted farmland seems to roll on and on forever. You drive by the small outfits, and they haul out to the front fence, what they have to sell. Worn out, beaten up pickups, a combine here and there, well used tractor an old motorhome, whatever.
I have driven on two lanes so striking, so majestic and mesmerizing, hauntingly familiar, that you swore they were objects of art. Rolling green sea’s of prairie grass, visions of Native Americans, stampeding horses, bison and of course, cowboys taming an unruly bronco fill my mind.
You would not expect anything less of someone who’s favorite western is “Dancin’ With Wolves.”
Eye candy for the soul is how I always seem to refer to it. A place in time, that lingers in your mind and often helps you thru your day. Distant roads are calling me. Through scenery so spectacular that much like a fine oil or a colorful print hanging on the wall it takes your breath away. The mood and the feel of the land permeate your soul in big sky country, the home of Louis and Clark, the chisled Grizzly.
I yearn to roam.
The old time towns and the architecture mixed with the new style trendy restaurants and galleries of the new west. Pickup’s with gun racks, Small detailed dream catchers hanging from the rear-view mirror, a blue healer dog in the back, one stop light at the end of the block.
And always, a canvas of baby blue (sky) right above you.
Man, I hate living in the city.
CHROME Catch you on the flip-flop
The road she calls to me … Like a sultry lover in the dark
She whispers my name … I want to go ….
My retirement or my life for that matter … Did not turn out the way I thought it would
But then again, does anyone’s?
So in order to beat the pain … I have learned to laugh often, long and loud.
Laugh until you grasp for breath … Laugh so much that you can be tracked in the store by your distinctive laughter.
It is all about attitude. … If it good … preserve it
If it is unstable … Improve it. … If it is beyond what you can improve … Seek help.
Whatever you are feeling and thinking this day is creating your reality. It is all keyed predominately to your thoughts and your feelings.
Feeling good is really important.