Yes – on the road, the plane, downtown NYC and Newark, on my way back to WA state. I had a good trip, got to meet one of my listeners in PA, and had a HELL of a ride on Greyhound (emphasis “hell”). One might consider the entire expedition to the east coast futile, absurd, pointless, but it wasn’t. I learned a lot on this jaunt, a week long trek, covering much of the country and meeting many members that occupy many strata of society.
I keep my listener’s situations private, but here’s what you need to know about our “friend in PA” – he’s a cool dude, prepared, in so many ways more prepared than me or most that I know. I had a break on the road at his home, which I needed, soaked up some of that country air, and I figured out that I needed to keep moving. It was not anything more complicated than my own demons chasing me to PA, and then chasing me down the road. It’s beautiful where our friend lives and I hope it stays that way, but it’s hard to say – troubling times for all on the death star.
The bus I took to the airport stopped near Madison Square Gardens in NYC. A filthy spot, surrounded by homeless and hookers and pimps riding scooters, running through the FLIX bus parking lot as the forlorn wanderers huddled together, waiting for our next bus. Nothing made sense, the numbers on the buses didn’t make sense, yet we, I think WE, found our bus and made our way to the next way point – for me it was Raymond Plaza in Newark.
As the bus entered Newark there were cops everywhere – seemed like hundreds on the streets …
As I grabbed a taxi to the airport, and we drove out of downtown Newark, more cops could be seen – new shiny vehicles, with magical strobe lights designed to ensure that anyone with the least susceptibility to seizure or epilepsy would be triggered, shaking on the ground, foaming at the mouth. I don’t know what was up with Newark on a Tuesday night at around midnight, seems like that runaway Brazilian (Cavalcante) might have made his way toward Jersey and someone wanted to bag the bad guy … maybe.
For my listeners: feel free to be disappointed in me if you wish.
A month ago I was still in Utah, wishing I didn’t have to leave, hoping the situation of peace and relative tranquility could continue – the morning walks with a dog named Boomer. But such things were not meant to last, especially these days. This old hobo would not be allowed to stay long in such a state of bliss – people like me are meant to “move on”, like the gangs of VFW and American Legion that would guard small towns during the Great Depression. “Move along hobo, your time has run out here”, and so I did, I moved on, and I’m still moving.
As I’ve said and written, I’m not giving up. No reason to give up, too many mistakes to make yet – but this weird trip, as resource costly as it was, probably helped me. I’m more at peace today with my situation than I was a month ago, the amount of stuff I carry is reduced, as it should be, not quite streamlined yet but getting there … I can imagine a day, in the not too distant future, when I’m down to a simple pack, tarp, sleeping bag, and whatever else makes sense for a traveler to carry.
So I say: “CHEERS TO THE UNDEFEATED HOBOS!”
Cheers to the GRAND ARMY of drain-circle’rs …
Cheers to the refugees and those struggling against the weight of the age.
Cheers to all who are unwilling to break, even if sometimes we must bend.
And CHEERS to all of you – somehow, we will laugh about this some day, I mean it …
(really)