On the Road Again
(An old man, a van, and a plan)
Dateline: St. Augustine FLA, Jan 29, 2023
Peanut Patch boiled peanuts. Buy the large size. Eat them all!
My life has been on the road, and now my book is on the road. We pulled up stakes and left Indianapolis and the snow and cold on January 21, heading south for the winter in our mini-campervan. A week later, we had traveled 1,000 miles through Chattanooga TN, Atlanta, GA, and multiple cities in South Carolina: Greenville, Columbia (the capital), and Charleston, before we crossed the state line into Florida today.
As usual for me, just saying the words “on the road again” evokes song lyrics. The 60s psychedelic rock band Canned Heat had a hit with the old Floyd Jones blues song, “On the Road Again,” in 1968. It was a sad song, whose lyrics seem particularly appropriate to describe my personal life at the moment.
Well, I'm so tired of crying/But I'm out on the road again
I'm on the road again/I ain't got no woman
Just to call my special friend
My special friend at the present is my dog, Mr. Bones. I found him in a shelter in Denver. He’s the best! He laughs at all my jokes, and he’s always happy.
Then Willie Nelson had a #1 Country-Western hit with his upbeat song “On the Road Again,” written as the theme to a 1980 movie Honeysuckle Rose. Willie Nelson starred in it with Dyan Cannon. The lyrics went like this:
And I can't wait to get on the road again/On the road again
Goin' places that I've never been/Seein' things that I may never see again
This song describes the wonderful feeling of going wandering, and never knowing what to expect from one day to the next. Some days it is grey and rains from morning to night; a cold, damp chill is in the air. The feeling is one of unbearable sadness and misery. I meet old friends from high school and college along the way. They are clearly very busy with their careers and other heavy obligations weigh on them. Apparently, they have no time for or interest in the book. Our meetings were friendly but relatively brief.
Arthur Ravenel Bridge over the Cooper River, Charleston SC
The next day the sky is blue and full of happy puffs of white clouds. Through some sort of amazing serendipity, I may meet a kind stranger or stumble onto an old classmate who surprises me by offering unexpected hospitality. This happened in Greenville, South Carolina, where a classmate I hardly knew back then insisted on showing me the town. He then invited me for a very nice home-cooked dinner and insisted that I stay the night. (I never ask anyone to host me and my dog, only to meet for coffee or a beer.)
Greenville SC, on the pedestrian bridge over the Reedy River Falls with Mr. Bones. Heavy rains have engorged the river and turned the water brown
The road is that way. One day you are singing the blues, and the next day you are on top of the world. It is a microcosm of life, I suppose. I am on the road again to complete my plan to visit all 48 contiguous states. Mr. Bones and I visited the northern half of the country from June through September, driving 15,000 miles through 30 states. Then we parked the campervan for three months to do the rewrite. \
The plan was always to head south for the winter in the campervan, which has no heat. It is a minivan converted into a camper. We had a couple of cold nights on the way down here. The coldest night, it got down to 28F. I had to bundle up and huddle under the sleeping bag. I worry about Mr. Bones. He has a winter coat, and I tried to cover him with a warm blanket, but he seldom stays under it for very long.
Our official goal is to visit independent bookstores wherever we go, and tell them about the book. I hand out my card and give them a flyer showing the new front and back cover. The book will be ready by mid-February, at which point I will circle back to them to see if they are willing to carry it in-store.
The owner at Tall Tales bookstore in Atlanta was initially very encouraging
It is a long shot, as most independent bookstores are small and have very limited shelf space. They have to think carefully about every book they choose to display. Will it sell, or will it just sit there gathering dust? They can’t afford to waste precious shelf space on books for which there is no apparent market. My challenge is to pique their curiosity and plant the idea that my life story will be of interest to others.
Wish me luck. Some of the bookstore owners initially showed interest. It is still a long shot. But stranger things have happened.
