END OF THE LINE . . . “ARE WE THERE YET”

It’s one thing to see the end of line, a whole other to drive past the start in Newport, Oregon.

If I have a full tank of gas I hit empty after 460 miles.

Eight tanks later, give or take, I’d be in Boston.

Might take a week of 500 mile freeway days, or two weeks on 20 East.

I’ve never been to Boston. 

I’ve heard the usual stuff, big city, big east coast city.

I’m sure it’s so much different than Philadelphia or Brooklyn where I have been, but probably not.

What would make Boston different?

 

The Drive Talks Back

That’s a lot of gas to burn between Newport and Boston.

For savings, I’d leave from Portland on Hwy26, merge onto Hwy97 to Bend, and make a left turn on 20.

Or, take I-5 to Corvallis, then a left turn also works.

 

Next Stop Boston

 

Maybe drop down to Newport, Rhode Island for a comparison to Newport, Oregon.

 

 

Before you cook up a bucket of chicken and hit the road, you’ll need some kind of plan.

If you’re a baby boomer, or wonder ‘what would a baby boomer do,’ I’ll tell you: They’d ask their wife.

Man: We’re taking Hwy 20 East to Boston, I’ve got the chicken cooking.

Woman: That doesn’t sound like a question.

Man: Then I’ll take your questions.

Woman: Let’s start with, ‘Did you hit your head or something?’ Show me the bump. It must be huge. Drive to Boston on back roads?

 

Are We There Yet

 

Remember, there’s nothing wrong with this:

You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring 
Waiting for someone to tell you everything 
Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring

 

The memories are waiting to be made by someone like you passing through.

 

Maybe somewhere down the road aways 
You’ll think of me, wonder where I am these days 
Maybe somewhere down the road when somebody plays purple haze

 

When your life flashes before your eyes, if that happens, you need to be sharp.

Just like the days of old, you’ll meet kindred spirits when you’re on the road, brothers in arms, friends for life, and never see them again.

But you’ll make it from Newport to Boston and back with the memory of them.

 

Don’t have to be ashamed of the car I drive 
I’m just glad to be here, happy to be alive 
It don’t matter if you’re by my side 
I’m satisfied

 

I didn’t make up the words to the song End Of The Line, but I like them a lot.

 

Well it’s all right, even if you’re old and gray
Well it’s all right, you still got something to say
Well it’s all right, remember to live and let live
Well it’s all right, the best you can do is forgive

Well it’s all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it’s all right, if you live the life you please
Well it’s all right, even if the sun don’t shine
Well it’s all right, we’re going to the end of the line

 

What’s Not All Right

It’s not all right that a world changes with no thought of you, worse if there’s little or no thought of your kids.

Oh, you say, here’s another self-referencing, self-aggrandizing, selfish, BOOMER gonna save the world again.

Another PTSD post-hippie stoner with nothing better to do than chide strangers about their narrow minded, thought-controlled, brainwashed life, circling the toilet?

Noooo, nothing like that.

Frankly, I don’t know any narrow minded, thought-controlled, brainwashed people, and if I did I probably wouldn’t notice.

But, what I do notice is people I know are concerned, and have been for years.

Women’s healthcare worries them. Housing worries them. Keeping families together worries them.

You take that 3365 drive between Boston and Newport and I’d bet the majority of those you meet along the way have the same worries.

If degraded healthcare is no concern, along with no opinion of tent camping on city sidewalks, and people looking for missing family members, you’ve probably got a busier life than mine.

America can’t find a way to address women in such dire need they travel out of state for care, knowing they may be tracked and the doctor arrested?

America can’t find a solution to urban refugee camps of homeless who lost their way?

Can’t help parents find kids who’ve been swept up in raids without worrying they may disappear for their efforts?

I have an idea, a lightbulb moment of clarity: ask the people who can help to do better.

Make an outrageous statement to those who can help: I voted for you to do better, not worse.

 

PS:

When you remind people in positions of authority to do their jobs, and they say you’re the least of their problems?

They might be a problem.

PSS:

When a career climber says whatever it takes to make the next step, to reach the next level, and what they say amounts to ‘fuck you, I need to feel important, to be important, to be something you’ll never be?’

That’s not your guy for public service.

You don’t want his job, you just want him to want it enough to do it the right way.

Ass kissing is not on any job description, but if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, it’s probably an ass kisser.