August 4, 2004

• I’ve got a job, I explore
  I follow every little whiff
  And I want my life to smell like this
  To find a place, ancient race
  The kind you’d like to gamble with
  Where they stamp on burnin’ bags of shit

  
  

  Lookin’ for a place to happen, makin’ stops along the way

  
  

  Wayward ho, away we go
  It’s a shame to leave this masterpiece
  With its gallery gods and its garbage-bag trees
  Oooh, I’ll paint a scene from memory
  So I’d know who murdered me
  It’s a vain pursuit, but it helps me sleep

  
  

  Lookin’ for a place to happen, makin’ stops along the way
  Lookin’ for a place to happen, makin’ stops along the way

  
  

  Jacques Cartier, right this way
  Now put your coat up on the bed
  Hey, man, you’ve got the real bum’s eye for clothes
  Aaaand come on in, sit right down
  No, you’re not the first to show
  We’ve all been here since, God, who knows?

  
  

  Lookin’ for a place to happen, makin’ stops along the way
  Lookin’ for a place to happen, makin’ stops along the way

  
  

  Jacques Cartier, right this way…aaand put your coat up, on the bed…oooh, you got the real bum’s eye for clothes…come on in…sit right down…we’ve all been here since, God, who knows…

  
  

  **********
  Deeamn. Now that I’ve finally got a day off to think about everything that’s gone on in the past week, it’s taking every brain cell that I have to determine that it’s all for real. Where shall we start…Tuesday last week? First off, that was my very first day on the job. I suppose most or all of you may have heard that John Kerry was campaigning in Philadelphia for two days (when he damn well should have been in the eternal clusterfuck known as Boston where he belongs).

  
  

  But anyway, guess who was driving in his motorcade after he reached the airport?

  
  

  

  
  

  I didn’t even know until we got to the airport and I saw the news vans. It was only then that I discovered I’d be driving one of the press-corps buses from the airport to various and sundry destinations in Philly. Now how cool is this, I ask you? Being escorted by the police and Secret Service gunships, blaring down I-95 which has been shut down in its entirety just for us, blowing stop signs and red lights with the absolute right-of-way from the Inthelineoffire Crew… Whee! I’m tellin’ ya, I didn’t even notice the rain – it was such a high-caliber job and I was so desperate not to screw it up – and miraculously, I didn’t (not within sight of my passengers, anyway). I didn’t get to meet Kerry, although I did see him making his way between his vehicle and the Art Museum where he was making his speech. But, that’s another story.

  
  

  So is Virginia Beach.

  
  

  Thursday through Sunday I spent floating weightlessly over the pavement to the most eye-popping (and, for that matter, only) beach party in my entire sun-darkened life. Man! Where on God’s green earth did I come off landing a job this big? (Thank you, Virginia, but I can live without your drenched air.) Nonetheless, are you folks hearin’ this? That after only three days on the job, I was already plunked down in a Dina Viaggio motor coach embarking on a four-day trip to VIRGINIA FREAKING BEACH???? Nope, my cerebellum wasn’t hearing it, either.

  
  

  Now mind you, the company that I’m working for sires a half-and-half stable: Dina Viaggios and older MCI buses. (I swear, one of these days I’m going to slip up and write Viggo instead of Viaggio. ) Aaaaaand when I told the boss that I had driven Blue Birds at my last job, the commiseration commenced instantly. Apparently, this company (which shall remain nameless to protect the uninvolved) owned some Blue Birds several years back – and promptly got rid of them for the same reasons that everybody at UNH with one-third of a brain can’t stand to drive them. I’m not saying that I would entrust my life to a Dina or an MCI that age, but after Dinacruising to and fro in Virginia Beach for four days, I’m pretty sure I’ve driven my last Blue Bird for a while.

  
  

  Oh, and if you ever have occasion to drive along U.S. 13 from Philadelphia to, say, Miami, bring a camera and an entire crate of film. The cruise along the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel is…well, bring a companion and take turns driving so everybody can enjoy the view. I’ve yet to drive by the Outer Banks, but that’s another darn-tootin’ snap-shootin’ place, I’m sure.

  
  

  Well, while I’ve got the day off, maybe it’s time for some serious reading and responding…

  • 10:18 am
  • 4 Comments