Is there a more perfectly imperfect way to begin the day than going for a long, long drive? Going way out on the edge of town past the cow pastures, beyond the half torn down remains of the former Hat & Coat Factory. Where do we want to go as the world ends, and a new one is becoming? Finding ourselves out on the backroads. Looking for timeless news of the momentary universal aspects of life. Where do we want to find ourselves before the end of the world isn’t a breakfast or dinnertime conversation starter. Have it your way, lunchtime it is. Let’s trade places, and I’ll become you for a month and see how the world flashes by and tells stories through your eyes. What do you say? Beginning it all again, and then again, plus one more again, seems to be the key to making our worldwide brainwashed cultural distortion field completely indigestible. As long as we’re wearing our Suspenders of Disbelief, we can change the narrative, and start all over again. I read somewhere remembering is the new forgetting. But I forgot where. It's going to take a reawakening of joyfully focused individuality and conviviality to bring forlorn and quagmired humans to a standing pose, rather than a distracted and aloof standstill. Without any doubt, everything’s finally becoming quantum because it needs to be, for everything to make sense. Timelines are splintering apart, and minds are opening up to all they’ve been closed off to in the Beforetimes. We’re at the edge of the continent, and there’s no going backwards. Over by the scenic misty cliffside, light-filled and glowing minds have been switched on. As was predicted in ancient stone tablets recently unearthed near a majestic waterfall on the Sunshine Coast in British Columbia. And so, our travels begin again. Upward and forward, along the rocky trail next to the wide Pacific Ocean.
As I may or my not have mentioned before, I grew up adjacent to St. Petersburg, FL, where Kerouac died. I was born in the hospital he died in. Funnily enough, the phone connected to his last address (the Kerouac House is now open for visitors and stays https://stpetekerouachouse.com/ ) was still connected long into the 1970s. You could call, and listen to it ring and ring...
Yes, I remember you mentioning it. I had no idea his house had been kept open for visits. That you could call it long into the 70s and let it ring and ring is just so marvelous! It's wildly him!
I'm not sure when Kerouac's house becoming a visitor/tourist destination started, but my friend Joyce who discovered that someone had forgotten to turn off Kerouac's phone got a big kick out of it, as did I. I definitely called the number more than once.
This is a very nice prompt: wearing our Suspenders of Disbelief.
Feels so very 'quantum Kerouac' who, ironically, never learned to drive!
As I may or my not have mentioned before, I grew up adjacent to St. Petersburg, FL, where Kerouac died. I was born in the hospital he died in. Funnily enough, the phone connected to his last address (the Kerouac House is now open for visitors and stays https://stpetekerouachouse.com/ ) was still connected long into the 1970s. You could call, and listen to it ring and ring...
Yes, I remember you mentioning it. I had no idea his house had been kept open for visits. That you could call it long into the 70s and let it ring and ring is just so marvelous! It's wildly him!
I'm not sure when Kerouac's house becoming a visitor/tourist destination started, but my friend Joyce who discovered that someone had forgotten to turn off Kerouac's phone got a big kick out of it, as did I. I definitely called the number more than once.
That's hilarious. That is sooooo a short story... where one day someone answers--Kerouac's spirit rousted from the dead!
Oh, dinner it is when we're up there! That lunchtime conversation might eat into our tourist time; no pun...