On The Road
(Jack Kerowac)
When I hitchhiked to Woodstock in 1969, I had not read On The Road. However, that didn't seem to matter, I still got the message. I am typing this at the library. The hour long guy left early and i switched over to that seat. Writing on demand is no fun. So, at least I am here for about a half hour. I got to read On The Road when I was about fifty. I had finally gotten a job as a cart person, who was allowed to read, because of the long hours. I was glad that I hadn't read it before the journey to Woodstock.
One day, after that job, I went down to the bar his friend worked at. I asked for a table for two. I was wondering what would happen. Sure enough, his spirit showed up and spoke French. I just loved that. I studied English in college. In the Critical Writing class, the teacher didn't like me because I wouldn't humor his male ego. All other English classes I did well in. I learned to type in high school. God Bless, my typing teacher. God Bless types like the wind.
Life is the opportunity to do great, richeous, good. To type like the wind. The library computer room description, you don't want to read. I live in a little town, with beautiful mountains. I wore my wool ski suit today. I snowed another foot of snow. I have on the big boots. It is a real winter. I attended the snowflake gala this year, dispite orders not to. I did artwork. Wrote poetry. After that I took the bus to Hollywood. I knew something wonderful would happen. I turned down the ride from the number one idiot box show.
Life is the literary road.
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