Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Tar and Chewing Tobacco

The road is magical tonight. The show we just saw was great. One o’clock in the morning and a long drive ahead of us, Cleveland to Pittsburgh. It smells like fresh tar and chewing tobacco. I smell like I’ve been drinking, and I have, a lot. My wife hasn’t, and she’s the one driving. Don’t make assumptions, asshole. Fines are doubled in construction zones in the state of Pennsylvania. It’s the law. Not that you can speed anyway, when three lanes are funneled down into one. Horses and barrels line it all with their blinking yellow eyes and white and orange stripes. I don’t have to work tomorrow. So I can enjoy the moment, the air, and the music. We are going home, but we’re not in a hurry. Soon we’ll hit a rest spot and get some scalding hot black coffee. I’m in heaven.

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