November 1981...My Walters Transit Swan Song:
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Excerpts from journals, written while traveling on a Greyhound Bus:
"My last bus ride before I head to Broadway. It is only appropriate that bus call be 7:15am...after finishing a show at 10:30pm...with an 8 and 1/2 hour drive to Madison Wisconsin. My last Bus and Truck Opening Night...Jackson Brown is serenading me through my Walkman. We are on a first name basis, Jackson and I. Your lyrics are going to make me cry... ..again...The "stars I wished upon" became a dream come true...But the scars? I'll never "laugh about the scars"..."
...On the bus, creature comforts are important. This is my home.
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August...enroute Canada, we go through customs. Their questions stump me:
"Where are you from?"
"The Bus"
"Where do you LIVE?"
I am tempted to repeat myself.....hmmm....I have to ponder...she seems to want a different answer.
I silently list our most recent residences: Holiday Inn, Howard Johnson's, Marriott...
I could go on... But I'm distracted by the truth of the matter: I've been living on the road for two years.
"What do you have in these bags?"
"Everything I own."
"Well, at least you know where everything is." She passes me through customs.
"Where are you from?"
"The Bus"
"Where do you LIVE?"
I am tempted to repeat myself.....hmmm....I have to ponder...she seems to want a different answer.
I silently list our most recent residences: Holiday Inn, Howard Johnson's, Marriott...
I could go on... But I'm distracted by the truth of the matter: I've been living on the road for two years.
"What do you have in these bags?"
"Everything I own."
"Well, at least you know where everything is." She passes me through customs.