I ain't the boss but I sure do like his music

Sometimes I wish I could really write. Move people with words. Truly explain the human experience.  The angst, the joy and the sorrow.



Bruce Springsteen can write.  He can sing.  He can play the guitar and harmonica.  He can move people with his words and music. 



I saw Bruce Springsteen last night in Louisville.  An awesome show. 

Here are some of my favorite lyrics. 



From Thunder Road, possibly one of the best rock and roll songs ever recorded.



Don't run back inside
darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me

You can hide 'neath your covers
And study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers
Throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now I'm no hero
That's understood
All the redemption I can offer, girl
Is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey what else can we do now?

Except roll down the window
And let the wind blow
Back your hair
Well the night's busted open
These two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back
Heaven's waiting down on the tracks

 

I pull the plow.  My plow pulling pays a bit better than other pulling positions but it all takes a toll.  Here are some Lyrics from The Promised Land



Mister, I ain't a boy, no, I'm a man,
And I believe in a promised land.

I've done my best to live the right way
I get up every morning and go to work each day
But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold
Sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode
Explode and tear this town apart
Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart
Find somebody itching for something to start

The dogs on main street howl,
'cause they understand,
If I could take one moment into my hands
Mister, I ain't a boy, no, I'm a man,
And I believe in a promised land.

There's a dark cloud rising from the desert floor
I packed my bags and I'm heading straight into the storm
Gonna be a twister to blow everything down
That ain't got the faith to stand its ground
Blow away the dreams that tear you apart
Blow away the dreams that break your heart
Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted

 

Great stuff.  I will still work on my writing when I am not pulling the plow.

 

Day nine: Running on Empty

Day nine of the adventure.  The exciting part is done. I have crossed the great plains, ridden the Million Dollar Highway, been to the top of the world in the Rocky Mountain National Park, shared lanes with bison in Yellowstone and conquered the Beartooth Pass. 


How was your week?

I am now heading back east, towards family, towards home.  It is downhill from here.  However, I have a few more stops before we get there. 

The next destination is Custer’s Last Stand.  There is the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument and museum there.  It brings back memories of prior trips.  It is a destination and diversion out in the great northern plains.  There is not really much else of interest, just wide open spaces, in the area.  My parents took me there on one of our early family vacations.  I may have passed by or stopped in either by myself in 1980 or on a trip to Yellowstone in 1990.

The parking lot is composed of about 70 percent motorcycles.  The bikes are out in force the closer I get to Sturgis.   It is vacation time for hundreds of thousands of Americans who ride motorcycles.

A ranger gives a fascinating talk on the battle.  A lot of things went wrong for General Custer.  He was despised by many which led to his death.  Part of his plan was to ride into the Indian camp and grab some women and children to use as hostages.  He had used this technique in the past to subdue and kill Indians.  He was beaten back by the Indians when he tried it here.  Although another troop could hear the gunshots, they did not come to his aid.  He and his men were wiped out.

I enjoyed my time at the park.  I like learning.  Time to head back on the road.  Destination, the Black Hills and Sturgis. 

One thing I will need to get me there is gasoline.  My machine is getting very low.  There is a large gas station and tourist store right next to the park.  I pull in but the gas pumps are all torn up as they are being repaired.  No gas here.  Surely there will be gas nearby

I am somewhat concerned at that point.. 

So off I go.  I get back on I-90 and head towards Wyoming.  There may have been some more businesses near the monument but I did not see any so I kept going.

As I noted before there is lots of space in Montana and not many people.  In addition to not many people there are not many exits.  One notices these things as your gas gage starts getting closer to empty.  They become much more important in my life. 

The low fuel light is on.  There is one exit 15 miles down the road which indicates it has gas.  There is nothing at the bottom of the ramp except a sign for a town. You can see a long way in Montana.  I do not see any town.  I elect not to chase after this town and get back on the freeway.  Surely there will be gas nearby.

There is another exit 12 miles down the road.  There is absolutely nothing at this interchange.  My mind is starting to go a little crazy.  I start planning.  What ifs….. Surely there will be gas nearby.

There is a sign with another exit in 17 miles.  I might be able to do that.  That is 17 minutes of thinking time since I decided I will conserve fuel by slowing down to 60 mph.  I start picturing myself hitchhiking across Montana.  Surely there will be gas nearby.

17 miles later the anxiety gets cranked up a couple of notches.  Another exit with absolutely nothing there.  Access to ranches, that is it.  This is pretty scruffy land.  Not good for farming, not good for too much.  Surely there will be gas nearby.

It has been a long time since the low fuel light came on.  I am running out of Montana.  There is another exit fourteen miles ahead.  I doubt I will make it.  I do run out of Montana and cross into  Wyoming.  I am stressed and in some despair thinking that I will run out of gas at any moment.  Surely there will be gas nearby.

I am still running.  The sign says exit in two miles.  There appears to be some civilization up ahead.  I have hope.  Salvation!  There is another sign advising there is an exit in one mile.  .I am going to make this!  Surely gas is nearby.

There is a gradual hill to climb before the exit.  Full speed ahead. 


I am a half mile from the exit and the motor quits.  I have run out of gas.

An INTJ Valentine

Some INTJ thoughts on Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day

Well it almost upon us.    No Valentine for me this year. No plans. 

Not sure that I am disappointed or not.  It is Barb’s birthday on Valentine’s day.  Last year she decided to go hiking with two couples instead of spending it with me.  The beginning of the end. 

Kissing spreads germs.  I have been under the weather this week and decided it would be best to not to make any commitments and  not spread this crud around.

A couple of thoughts from some inmates at advrider.com

“I am going to the store with my IPhone and photograph a nice "soft fuzzy romantic card"
therefore don't have to buy an expensive card. Most likely ride by the cemetery and
select a "fresh" bunch of flowers. Romantic dinner, well she will cook me something grand the night before - just save the left overs. Voila! “

Or this

“1. Watch porn
2. Get a boner
3. Give her the best 90 seconds of her life.”

A national sex day.

Perhaps I will cook a special dinner:

the happy hausfrau: Oh Come, All Ye Faithful...

I think I may put this woman on my blog list.  She is a Minnesotan and a semi-soft Lutheran.




She had a cheating spouse who married his adulteress




Some good stuff here:




"People talk about those of us left behind as being brave. Of being strong. Of
having an almost preternatural mettle.

But really...it's those hopeful,
determined souls who knowingly build a house upon a rotted, unstable foundation
who are the brave ones, isn't it? Oh, the trust they have in their
partners-in-crime. It would be admirable if they weren't such awful people. If
they weren't the harbingers of so much breakage and ruin and mess."







the happy hausfrau: Oh Come, All Ye Faithful...: One of the kids and I were discussing religion. I was a soft Methodist growing up, and become a semi-soft Lutheran via marriage. Wha...

John and the nursing home

Finding John alone & depressed on a park bench in the east wing garden of the nursing home, Annie, also an resident there, asks

"What is wrong John?" John replies, "It was on warm summer nights like this that my wife, rest her soul, & I would set in our garden behind our home stare at the stares & she would hold my manhood for hours on end".

Longing for male companionship, Annie make a snap decision & says

"Well, if it would help, I would be willing too do that for you".

"Oh! that would be wonderful," says John.

And so begins a nightly rendezvous that last several weeks until John is no longer present, concerned something has happened to John, Annie inquires at the nurses desk,& is told that John has been going to the west wing garden for the last several days. Annie seeks out her friend in the west garden only to find him setting w/ Gracie, a resident of the west wing, & sure enough Gracie has Johns manhood in her hand.

Distraught & shaken Annie says "What are you doing, I thought I Was the one that did that for you, What has she got that I don't?"

Sheeplessly lookin at the ground John mutters one word.

"Parkinson's"

Thought for the day