I know I'm not the only person who has ever hitchhiked across the country. Ok. Maybe not across the whole country, but how about from Illinois to California? Twice?
I did it back in my college and post-college days. Once, by myself, and once, with a friend. There were many adventures. Good times, bad times. A few amazingly beautiful situations, and a couple really scary situations. I should probably write about it all sometime in detail, but this morning is not that time.
I was living a Kerouac, "Zen and the Motorcycle Maintenance" kind of existence. There was something strange and unsettling and adventurous about leaving your fate and direction up to the next ride. It was sort of reckless. Can't imagine doing it now. Surprised I did it then. But it was a significant time in my life.
I did end up in Winslow, Arizona. And I did stand on a corner. And I did put my thumb out for a ride. I don't believe a girl in a flat-bed Ford picked me up that time. But later, in California, I was picked up by a beautiful young girl in a shiny pickup.
It was just a short ride. Memorable. Kind of like that song. And I did understand that simple, heartfelt exuberance of being alive that Jackson Browne and Glenn Frey wrote about in their song. "Take it Easy," Glenn.