Hwy 61

If you step to one side and squint real hard, you just might see it. Right there, in the last place you would think to look, it appears. The weekend.

I have forgotten what a true weekend is like. Back in college, those two days seemed fast, but we got a hell of a lot done now that I think about it. A few visits to the bar, possibly in the same day, a few friend's houses, couple of couches or floors slept on, three or four visits to the Wendy’s drive thru, and even a beer run before the store closed. A pace like that could kill a man like me now. And even though they never seemed long enough back then, we shoved a lot more into those fleeting hours than I can now imagine.

These past few months, I have been doused in wedding plans, beleaguered into fixing things around the house, watching cable and doing less and less of what I really want to do. For God’s sake, I haven’t had enough beer in me to get a jr. varsity cheerleader drunk. This has got to change.

This weekend, it’s all me. I’m gonna pack a bag, take a camera, a few pens, a notebook, a couple of road beers, some smokes and I’m going to leave. Me and Moose are northward bound. I’m setting out after work and taking my usual route to North La. No interstates, just the scenic highway 61. And this time, I’m going to pay attention. I’m going to look to the side every once and a while, pull over and rest instead of driving full on into the night. My destination is a friend’s house for beers. But I’m not going to miss anything on the way there. And if it’s really good, I’m going to remember it here. And another great thing is I just discovered audioblogger for this blog. This means drunk dialing is not just for the person you woke up at 2:30 in the a.m. anymore.