Playing Fair and Being Kind

This old vagabond has lived a couple of lifetimes worth of travel starting as a child and then as a sailor and now as an old man with sand in his shoes. I’ve spent so much time on the road and at sea that the only way for me to feel comfortable with my restless nature is to be moving along. A consequence of this has been sort of regenerative in that I’ve met more and more people with whom I’ve formed an attachment and, ergo, I need to go back and visit. You get my drift. There is a song by Patty Griffin that sends me out the door figuratively. It is “I’m Going To Miss You When You’re Gone”. Here are the lyrics.

I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone
I know you don’t believe that, but you’re wrong
There’s gonna be some rainy Sundays
Wishing one day, I’ll see you again

Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself
But I know you’re headed somewhere else
And all the secrets that you keep will be, the things I’ll never know
Doesn’t matter either way, I’ll still miss you when you go

I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone
I know you don’t believe that, you’re wrong
There’s gonna be some strangers laughing through the hotel walls
And I’m gonna wish your footsteps would come walking down the hall

And the moon will be high, bright as a pearl
Shining through my window on the dark side of the world
And I’ll be thinking of you, dancin’ somewhere
The way you were back then, the moonlight in your hair

And I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone
I know you don’t believe that, you’re wrong
There’s gonna be some rainy Sundays
Wishing and wondering, when I’ll see you again
When I’ll see you again

She sings this song so sweetly and with a poignancy that makes my heart bleed tears of loneliness. You can see what I mean here:

I have traveled each year for the past three during the winter. I’ve rigged my SAAB station wagon for sleeping. It is quite comfortable. I also pack a tent, tubs of food, dishes, water and various layers of clothing for whatever conditions I may encounter. I leave Maine in late January and return April. The route is nearly the same but not exactly. Generally I take the same route to get through New York to skirt The City and head down the turnpike to Wilmington. From there I normally travel the DelMarVa peninsula and cross into Norfolk via the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel. I used to visit John in Newport News but he fell and struck his head on the pavement outside his home and a few weeks later he died. He should have gone to the doctor. He didn’t and he died from a brain thing. Our mutual friend Bill told me this. I’ve known Bill as long as I’ve known John; since 1970 on the USS Hunley in Charleston. Bill is not as eager to see me as was John so I don’t stop to see Bill.

After I’ve arrived in the Tidewater area of Virginia I have an idea of where I go next. I’ve found route 17 into North Carolina is a sweet ride, one of the oldest north-south routes near the coast. I head for Cherry Point where I can stay on the Marine base for cheap. Denny Breese lives in Beaufort. We are old shipmates from 1960. Denny was an original crew member of Nautilus and he traveled under the ice at the North Pole in it. Denny is now a treasure hunter living near the outer banks. He has made a fortune and lost a fortune. That’s a long story.

After Cherry Point there are a number of places to visit next. I could go to Charleston, South Carolina to visit Grace who is one of my vegan gurus after which I would go directly over to Tennessee to see Nicole and her family and then to Georgia to see if Rae is open for a visit. From there I will probably drive to Florida for the first time to visit an old submarine pal Denise. She and I are good friends and we share a lot of history. Of course the next stop is New Orleans and Pat. Pat is one of my best friends. We are next door neighbors in Maine as well. Lucienne will take me around to see some of Mardi Gras I hope. After NOLA it’s on to Texas to see Kara and Jim and their two beautiful and brilliant kids.

Texas is a hard place to internalize. It is so huge and diverse there seems to be no end to it. I like to take it in chunks. I’ve begun to stop and use my tent in Texas. I find a campground and hang out for four or five days along the coast while the weather is still warm enough. I stopped in Laredo last year and I found it quite enjoyable. After Laredo the road heads into higher elevations and camping is more difficult due to the colder temps. A destination this year again will be Marfa. It is a community that is welcoming artists and parts of the town are getting a bohemian look. Of course I was only there for one night. I stayed in a tent at El Cosmico, a funky motel of sorts. Google it.

The beds in the tents are heated with pads under the bedding. The night I stayed the temp dropped to below freezing. The toilets are community types open to the elements, but covered. It is a long walk to the pisser at night in the cold. I was equipped with a jug for that function so I stayed in my tent throughout the ordeal. I have never slept in such conditions before. I took my clothes to bed with me so I could put them on in the morning. Remember what I said about the higher elevations? This is what I meant in regard to sleeping outdoors. Brrrrrr!

After Marfa, which is as southwest one can get in Texas, I wander north on secondary roads all the way to Clovis, New Mexico. I passed through a town in West Texas named Muleshoe. Clovis is where Cannon Air Force Base is. I stayed there for one night to clean up and wash clothes. This part of the country is higher elevation but flat and dry mostly. I’m getting closer to my destination of Santa Fe. I am looking for a semi-permanent place to live in or around Santa Fe. There are good friends there. I have known Rick since 1983 from Boston days and just recently I’ve met Judy through old friend Natalie. Both Rick and Judy are hippies, in my estimation, and they are worth getting to know very well.

Judy has introduced me to Madrid, pronounced MA-drid. Madrid is south of Santa Fe and the population is only a few hundred people who are mostly artists. I have seen the town and it is quite funky and I feel drawn to it. We’ll see what happens this year.

I want to spend about a month in New Mexico. Like I say, we’ll see. From here I usually like to head west toward Arizona but this year I might head south again to visit Pancho Villa campground near Columbus, New Mexico. I had a sort of aborted experience there and I feel the need to return to finish what I started. I also want to write about the number of arrests made there of the town leaders over the past few decades. Wild west shit!

I don’t like Arizona that much. I have old memories of heart break that have spoiled my present therefore I pass through as quickly as practical. I head for the California desert and Borrego Springs State Park. I love this part of the desert. Unfortunately so do millions of others. The place has grown in population since I first started showing up there in 1977. I know a few places for wilderness camping so I can just go and hang out for days and days as long as I have water. I also have children and grandchildren in California with whom I want to visit and tell stories with. Gwen and Becky in La Quinta and Mark and Aj in Lemon Grove. Mark and Aj’s daughter Haley is going to school at SDSU. My other granddaughter Hannah goes to school at Wake Forest in North Carolina. I will visit her on the way back to Maine in April.

My bff is Neeley. She lives in Wildomar. I want to visit with her again as I have the past two years. I can’t describe what we have as friends. I have never met anyone who affects me as powerfully as she does. I have no words. The best I can express it is I look at Neeley as what my insides must look like if I were turned inside out. She is my emotional twin. I can only say that I love her more than I love myself. I would like to live with her or near her and take care of her when she asked for it. She has cared for me and taken care of me in many, many ways. My life is forever cemented with hers.

I have other connections in Socal. My writer friend is Adam who lives in San Diego. He has helped me to be a better writer. I go to San Diego and Imperial Beach to relive my life from the 70’s when I was a young buck. I love walking and jogging the beaches, running in the sand and the surf. Socal is a very cool place. I may even get to see Shannon and her kid again. Shannon and I share a major fear of heights and the Coronado Bridge provides us with a focal point of scariness. Neither of us drive it. We go around via the strand and Imperial Beach.

After I get to Southern California I begin to measure my energy level and money and mental status. If all three add up to ‘ouch’ I begin to get homesick and on edge. That is when I put my finger to the wind and face East. The return trip is not as meandering but for sure I am going to hit the Shenandoah Valley and Interstate 81. Along around North Carolina I am going to stop and spend a few days in Winston Salem to see Hannah. I want to share a pizza with her at least.

I hope I get to see Cate and Melissa in Virginia. They are new to me and I think I’d get along well with them both. After I hit Virginia it is a hop, skip, and jump to New England. I don’t rest much as I get into the northeastern states. I will stop in Portland to have lunch or dinner with Sam and then I get to back to Boothbay and hope the snow is all gone.

That is my plan for this winter. I may take a side trip or two. We’ll see. At any rate this is my response to Patty Griffin singing I’m Gonna Miss You When You’re Gone.

I hope you have a pretty day and that you get a chance to get out and walk and breathe deeply of what is left of the air around us. I miss a lot of you and I will be happy to once again stand in your presence and breath the air with you.

Peace out.