I haven't much thought about Jack Kerouac or On the Road for nearly half a century, and even when I was reading the book, I didn't really get it, maybe because I hadn't spent much time on the road. Not that I'm a roadie in the Kerouac sense, but snippets of quotes have been zapping their way into my consciousness.
My recall of the quotes was so inadequate that I looked them up:
Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life. Bob noted the other day that our luggage didn't look much like that of other people checking into hotels: paper bags (snacks and beverages); a cooler; my St. Mary's, Ontario, shopping bag (one of my favorites in the collection); Bob's old motorcycle overnight gym bag; my camera and computer bags. Our swimsuits and underwear for the next day spill over the sides of wherever we happened to shove them. Other hotel guests travelled with matching luggage and garment bags. But no matter, we were having a wonderful time on the road of life.
Where we going, man? I don't know but we gotta go. Some mornings, like today, we head out without a clear understanding of the day's destination. I thought we were going to Colorado Springs for a visit and maybe overnight in the Manitou Springs area. Bob was thinking of Colorado Springs as a via point as we began the trip home. Since I'm the navigator, I should have asked the question earlier on in the journey, before we were pretty much committed to taking Hwy 24 all the way, before turning north. Oh well, we did go a little out of our way but ...
... the world is rich with possibility and we had a great day.
