My mother used to have a saying, “Don’t count it a day lost when you learn something new” and she especially liked, “learn a new word.” She was big on vocabulary. I’ve modified this treasured maternal maxim to include any number of lesser, albeit, practical goals to further edify my life. For example, “don’t count it a day lost when you can talk a cop out of a speeding ticket” or “don’t count it a day lost when you can dodge every call from a bill collector.” And the … [Read more...]
The Last Detail
December 4, 2011 By
Here’s the thing about going on a road trip across America alone with your dog. She can vouch for nothing. When I say, “Hey Lib, remember that herd of big horn sheep in Colorado that were really close to the highway?” she just looks at me with this blank puppy-dog stare. I’ve been engaging in this a lot lately, this one-sided reminiscing. As other duties, like raking up the the 9,000 pounds of autumn confetti littering my yard, now supplanted by the terror of … [Read more...]
Thanks for Coming, Don’t Forget to Tip Your Waitress
November 11, 2011 By
So I’ve got all this neglected content from the journey, you know. And I’m weaving it into the book, seen from the rear view mirror now, and some of this material will make the cut and some of it, well, we’ll see. I’ve been juggling a freelance job, a part-time job, plus nights and weekends at the Webster University library. A lovely, elderly Chinese man and I occupy the same two tables on the fourth floor where the rituals from the road have now been replaced by the … [Read more...]
If You Died Tomorrow Would You Live to Regret It?
October 11, 2011 By
Hi y'all, I'm working fast and furiously on the book, but wanted to share a short OP ED I sent to the New York Times today after reading about Steve Jobs, being born in San Francisco in 1955 under less-than-perfect circumstances. Sound familiar? A lot of this is old news to you, I've lifted a few lines from previous posts. But I was hoping to stimulate some thought outside my circle of readers. Mostly, I just wanted to say hello. More soon. Peace and love, Jean If … [Read more...]
Scent of a Summer
October 4, 2011 By
I was looking for socks. Plain old socks. Rummaging around in the middle drawer, annoyed that it’s already time to dig out the socks, knowing that colder, darker days are just around the corner, I came upon my traveling pants. The black ones. The black, stretchy Adidas pants with the white stripes that come down to my shins. The pants I wore all across the country and nobody knew I had on the same pants five days out of seven. They didn’t dig into my stomach and they … [Read more...]
The Working Class
September 25, 2011 By
So I’m sitting in a bar in St. Louis last week at a going away party for a friend. She got a new video editing job in another town, pays more, and she’ll be able to work on better projects. You can only edit so many fried chicken videos. One of the guys sitting at the table, a local indie movie guy, who comes off a little cocky because he’s made a couple of movies that a few people liked, starts railing on the people who work at fast food restaurants. “I always check … [Read more...]
Amarillo or Vail? The Answer Is Not So Obvious
September 24, 2011 By
I order a vodka tonic, with my frequent flier drink coupon and settle back to look out the window at the clouds at 33,000 feet. I feel overwhelmingly sad today -- the realities of managing the pressing demands of financial catch-up, not to be confused with ketchup, stringing along one freelance gig after another just to make the house payment, while I work feverishly on the book outline and pray to the publishing gods for an A-D-V-A-N-C-E, I get caught short on … [Read more...]
It’s All About You
September 16, 2011 By
I've missed you. I told you, "I will never leave you" and then I did. I didn't mean to drop off the face of the planet since my last post on September 2nd. I have actually gone through withdrawals, kind of a "post" traumatic syndrome, traumatized by not writing and hearing back from all you folks whom I truly care about. But I got sucked in. I got sucked back into the frenzied vortex of nail-biting normal, even though I stuck my legs out, stiff as a board, pushed … [Read more...]
I Will Never Leave You
September 2, 2011 By
I hear the low rumble of trucks on the freeway from my porch, back home from my 8,600 mile odyssey. What just last night felt like a predator, the rattle and whirr of tractor trailer rigs, crowding me closer, closer and closer with each mile nearer home, now seems a seductress calling from a distance. It’s like a pack of cigarettes in the dresser drawer, a bottle of booze in the cupboard, it is simply, there. Get in the car and just drive away, drive to the next town, … [Read more...]
To Honor My Brother Don
August 30, 2011 By
Last night Libby and I reached mile 8,000 on our journey across America. It was just about sundown, near Grainfield, Kansas. Could there be a more appropriate name for a prairie town? Grainfield? I pulled over and snapped a photo. It was a momentous day for a number of reasons - it would be our last night on the road, it was exactly one year ago yesterday that Libby inspired this little road trip, mocking me for not challenging the choke hold on my life. Reminding me … [Read more...]
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