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August 1, 2011
McCarren Wifi
I'm sitting at the airport in Las Vegas (aka the city of Lost Wages). I've been reading "On The Road" by Jack Kerouac. Trying to get the story wrapped up before my big trip to Alaska. The trip is coming up. I have it in me. I can feel it. I have half a mind to leave tomorrow.
Everywhere I go I see the motorcycles with saddlebags and they're rolling across the country every place I turn and I think..."yes...right...flee...run like the wind while there's still a chance...while we still can...caution is nothing but cowardice and lost opportunity welded together."
I have no fear of the road. To me, the road is salvation. Nothing is more calming to me than unwinding the coast beneath the bike. Away from the madness of civilization.
My greatest fear is of growing accustomed to life in the city. I'm sure there must be some escape from these San Francisco doldrums of sirens and screeching tires. Drug addicts and prostitutes. Crippled homeless begging in the streets for change. Homeless people living in dead-end allies. Meth addicts staggering lost down the sidewalks. Lost old women, staggering down Filmore, crying out to strangers in the darkness for help. Peeing in bus stop shelters. Snatching leftovers from strangers from the city's dinner tables.
The must stop. This must all go away. All of these people are destined to die a slow and painful death in this city but I have to punch out somehow. Got to find an exit door. There must have been one when I came in.
Posted by Rob Kiser on August 1, 2011 at 8:52 AM
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