so, point was

if a tag reader could bring up both

a.) my tag ‘theroad’ here on wordpress

and

b.) cdent’s tag ‘theroad’ on liveJournal

then people would write about the road and could read about the road whenever they wanted to.  or the highway.

re: highway

so i get spam today, not big news, i get spam every day. its easier for me to delete the spam than to delete the email address. one day the spam will reach critical mass, and it will be easier for me to delete the address. this is the way of things. path of least resistance.

so i have been enduring a lengthy siege of emails, mostly about male organ size and how much she’s going to like it. frankly, i am a little daunted at the thought of these legions of chemically enhanced ‘packages’ wandering around out there in the world (a quick note to any male readers — don’t worry about it! and no! women will probably not worship you either way!)

enduring, as i say. until today. today they went too far. today the subject line of a viagra email said, “Re: Highway”

AND IT WAS NOT ABOUT THE HIGHWAY!

spam how you like, for instance, one of my personal favorites is, “F#*%stickImportant”. now that is quality bedroom talk, am i wrong?

each to their own. but i must insist, do not, i repeat, DO NOT bring the highway into this. that is clearly going too far.

for the highway is another matter entirely.

my fortune cooky say,

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with one small step.”

and guess what? I JUST DROVE A THOUSAND MILES!

i really did. just now. twenty hours. from cayucos the teardown town to oklahoma city.

did it begin with a single step? i guess it did…

one small STEP ON THE GAS!

old people rock

and so it is night

por que the sun is over the horizon,
and from out there we turn

and that is why
arizona is nice this time of year.

do you know hotels charge more for weekends and seasons?
i found this out,
as rents are so high a hotel seemed a better option.

isn’t that funny.

i remember when i could
roll into town on a train
and find an apartment that afternoon.

train went through birmingham

and there in birmingham we put on the lounge car
and in that lounge car these old people would play gin rummy
(and i say old, cos when i get old, i’m not going to be afraid
to say i’m old)

well this was no kind of gin rummy i’d ever seen
cos these old people
they’d rap your knuckles
if you had the wrong cards
and that was the game
so there i was rolling through the alabama noon
and the hot green of the side of the road
buggy and sticky
like walking through a dream about the summertime

cept for pavement. pavement is no dream.

sometimes we’d set up on the pavement
bobcat had to drive the stakes

course that was the circus,
and not the train.
the train was the southern crescent
and i jumped on it
almost anytime i had a coupla hundred dollars
and itchy feet