I wander America on a Harley Davidson motorcycle, sleep on couches and in fifty-dollar motel rooms, eat at Waffle House and Main Street cafes, and have conversations with people whose politics I might not agree with. These are our stories.
God’s Tattoo
I went through Basic and AIT at Fort Knox with Cal and God
A Breakup Letter to a Former Friend and Coworker
You shouldn’t read shit from delusional people.
Legacy
On a Friday afternoon a dozen years ago, Ron Davis was sitting on the curb in front of a Subway sandwich shop; he asked me for money for something to eat.
Metaphor Racing
It could be that NASCAR is America at it’s finest, gentle, polite, accepting, funny, loud, oblivious and weirdly sexy.
Bye-bye, Bud
Busch Light has taken over…
Hannibal to Cairo via East St. Louis
At breakfast, I met Angela and Alijah, Alijah is Angela’s niece and has a week off from school. Angela delivers school busses for a living. They’re from Atlanta and are on their way to St. Louis. The bus has a gasoline engine and no governor and they’re doing seventy-five.
The Small Motel
You don’t meet interesting people at a Holiday Inn Express
For Rent
The Honey Hole Diner
I Need a New Hobby
Maybe I should find a new hobby…
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