I was out at the abandoned park, someone stole all the water from the dam so no one goes there.
I had gotten the bow out strung it and locked my keys in the car. No big deal I live a primitive existence. A few rocks and some wire from a near by fence and an hour of fishing for lever and I'mback behind the wheel. Turn the key and nothing. Try all the switches nothing. Try the flashers and something so it is a blown master fuse no big deal except I don't want to do damage by sticking a penny in the socket, or a cap over an oil spill.
No cell phone so it is walking time. Three miles to US 24 first thing though my head is the Holy Modal Rounders Long John. "It's a long road winding to the land of my dreams." This is the West where the roads are a straight as a real estate mans hand into your bank account. Got to stick to the road cause I'm wearing sandals. Next song in my head was Never Tries of the Road Andy Irvine tribute to Woody, never ran with Woody but I did with Cisco and Will. So the song sticks and the miles pass.
Come to the big road US 24 West it goes to the the Pen in Buena Vista where the school tried to imprison my kid for reading Malcolm X and bad poetry. East it becomes !-70
I's getting toward dark and there's twelve miles to go I start walking cause traffic is fast and the miles get long. A kid in a red Olds comes close to hitting me I give him the universal high sign and continue being careful on the bridges over our drought dry creeks. a White pickup does a one eight and I and the car are on our way home. It's a pals kid who has been taught mutual self aid by his ever so cool mama; no school teaches that around here.
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