Sunday, May 17, 2020

Road Trip!

    As I get older I wonder about us as younger men.  I overheard Kurt, one time, describe me as, "about a half an outlaw motherfucker".   I think he was probably the strongest man I ever met and I considered his comment to be high praise, indeed.  In a way, I still do but 35 years later, I wonder.
    I do know, had I not been that man then  I would not be this man now.  You can make of that what you will but it is true.
    I was driving from my parent's home to where I lived in Phoenix, Arizona.  I was part of the great, unmentioned migration from the Northeast Rustbelt to the Sunbelt in search of employment in the mid-1970s and '80s.  In point of fact, it was a movement of economic refugees that's never been, in my opinion, adequately explored and it won't be here.  I'd been home on vacation from the oppressive summer, desert heat.  My lifelong friend, Joe ( Kurt's older brother) decided to go back with me, mainly because he had nothing better to do.
    To ourselves and those who knew us we were different guys but to the casual, world at large we were pretty much the same guy.  Early thirties, working-class, denim-clad, lean, long-haired, full beards.  Forty years later, kinda scruffy, sorta rough lookin guys. We couldn't have been too bad, we always had good looking girlfriends.  I'm not telling those stories either. Some of them are pretty funny but not today.
    We were serious about the drive.  It would seem scandalous now but we only had a half bag of reefer which we barely touched and only drank 3/4 of a case of beer between us on the 44-hour trip.  The reefer was awful which set off an argument between me and Joe that would go on, half-seriously for a decade. I wanted to kick the guy's ass who had ripped us off.  Joe was like. Oh forget it, he's been a life-long friend.  It was 20 years before I would even speak to the guy again, over 10 dollars.  Joe was right but I don't think I missed anything.
    Serious. To that end, I showed up at Joe's parent's house to pick him up for the trip at about 5:15 in the morning. He was ready and loaded his suitcase and got in.
    Then he said, " Oh wait, I forgot something."  and went back in the house.  After a minute he came back out with a brown paper bag and tossed it in the back seat and off we went. I didn't ask.  It was too early in the morning to care.
     Here's something you don't see anymore but 40 years ago was a commonplace.  On long car trips, the little kids used to just bounce around the back seat and entertain themselves and often entertain the occupants of the cars behind them on the highway with little, improvised Punch and Judy shows.
     Sometime that afternoon or maybe the next afternoon we were following such a family on the interstate. Joe gave that little chuckle he had and reached over the seat for the forgotten paper bag. He withdrew a Grover, from Sesame Street,  hand-puppet he'd brought just for the occasion. 
    I wish I smiled like that more often now.
    Ya see, Joe was wrong.  He did have something better to do and he was doing it.
 

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