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People, places, and life

Updated: Feb 14



Speaking of former adventures, some of my youthful wanderings across the U.S. were in the company of an old friend. The path we followed would have made a drunken sailor sea-sick, zigzagging across the lower 48 states. Generally, we stayed anywhere from a few days to a couple of weeks in any given town or area, until we jointly decided it was time to take a break.


When we arrived in South Dakota, we rented a place together and I took not-so gainful employment flipping burgers at a local fast-food place. We had only been there about a month when my friend decided to pack it in and head back to our home state of New York. His reasoning was that every place was the same, so why bother going anywhere else? By that, he meant while the landscape might vary, the people and their lives were all from a similar cloth.


Which is precisely why I wasn't particularly inclined to head back east.



I love to travel for many of the same reasons most people do. See the sights (human built and natural), learn some history, experience new cuisine, and of course enjoy some sunshine and relaxation on occasion. But the main reason, why I traipsed across my home country, quit a different job a few years later and bopped around western Europe, and have spent time in various other parts of the world, is the people. Because people are people, everywhere you go. Different, sure, yet the same. The same pains, joys, loves, losses. Yet each unique to them, their lives, and the experiences that put them in that particular spot at that particular time when we crossed paths.


Each and every one of the folks I meet, however briefly or in depth, for however long or short my time is with them, has their own story. And those stories have stories...


So, I just finished my day shift at the inn and started my night shift at the convenience store when I found the garbage bag full of drugs in the men's room...


Candy, my name is just Candy. I'm 18...16...14...it doesn't matter. And nah, it isn't too bad on the street. Besides, my folks are carnies. I just couldn't stand it anymore...


My father uses what he calls the 'board of education' when we get out of line. It hurts, but he's my father, so it's his job. Last week I got home late and...


No, he travels all the time. Built me a beautiful house, but I get tired of being alone. Why don't you come home for lunch with me? We can...


They're just staff. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. I pay good money to be a member here. They should...


I'm doing some studio work on a Jackson Browne album. You can be my assistant, carry my bags and kit. Want to come? We can...


Working seventy hours this week. Going to have to bring her with me to the store, can't afford to pay anybody to watch her. Her father...


Never fit in, no one gives a shit. Why bother, anymore? I've got...


I appreciate the company, long haul this time. Could be worse, could be home. My wife's cousin is staying with us and I'll tell you, she and that damn ferret of hers...



Shoes, man? I don't need shoes. Have to let your feet feel Mother Earth, get some of that energy right into you, you know? There was this time...



There was this time, indeed. And another time. And a time related to that one.


The world is an interesting place unto itself. Add a few billion hairless apes into the mix and you never know what, or who, will come up.


Reminds me of a story I once heard....


Thanks for reading.


 

Pick up a copy of Rathcrog: A Horror Novel if you haven't already. Also available from your friendly neighborhood independent bookstore.



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