November 1981...My Walters Transit Swan Song:
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.
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.
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