Texas Kansas tea
Driving across Kansas is an experience I’ve done a few times already. You’d think I’d learn other routes by now.
I kept the radio off and the windows down and the humidity slowly increased as I began leaving Colorado. I teetered between fretful thoughts, fearing my return and the disarray that may have set in during my absence.
Is my electric still on?
Did the post office hold my mail beyond the date I said I’d return?
What’s up with work? Was I too quiet on certain client fronts?
I missed every summer movie.
What am I doing with my life?
Then there was some hump I hit and good thoughts took over. I began signing Willie Nelson’s “Blue Skies” and Pavement’s “We Dance.” I was the star of the karaoke night club in my car, having comedic banter with the backup band that didn’t exist.
Clearly, delusion had set in.
But I was not worried about the mail or electricity. I felt creative ideas well up and wrote down everything on a notepad.
Night came and I motored through Topeka onto the Toll road. As I entered Kansas City, fireworks from a minor league game lit up the highway.
I got to Art’s place after a few confused exits and I filled him in on the days between.
Sleep came easy.