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Saturday, June 22, 2024

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" . . . and one more block, the engine talks, whispers 'home at last,' it whispers 'home at last,' whispers 'home at last' . . . "

( To cap off all this loneliness, here is a song about where we grew up, brother Bill: Diamonds on my Windshield," by Tom Waits. )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONYNMU527D0

Bro Joe,

That's one of my favorites too. One of the great truck-drivin' songs.

It's a tough job driving a steel train through the rain and potholes of all those LaLaLand interchanges, more so now than it was in the '70s when this song came out, but there is a romance to the road that makes the truck driver a sort of latter-day cowboy. What will these good ole boys do when trucks drive themselves? Learn to write code?

Be glad, Joe, that we are old men. We've had one hell of a good run. After us, the deluge. A perfect crapstorm is on the horizon . . .

"Hey look here, Jack" signals Waits' status as a latter-day Kerouac. Old Jack -- may the Lord have mercy on him and his excesses -- would be proud. It is a curious fact that Carolyn Cassady had a low opinion of Tom Waits. But that is a story for another time. If you are intrigued, find yourself a copy of Carolyn Cassady, OFF THE ROAD. I read it in the late '80 not long before I returned to the West.

Thanks Bill, a good tune from Johnny Cash. And tasty acoustic guitar!

Speaking of guitar, I'm close to finishing one for my friend Herman Arendsen in Holland. He is a world-class builder and sent me a lovely cutaway 000 as a gift that plays and sounds very nice. Only fair that I try to overcome it!

Blessings to you and your wife.
Dave

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