A ten-hour drive out of New York into the woods of the Midwest. I’ve missed the heat and hum of the road. I even enjoyed the endless stretch of Pennsylvania where the highway is choked with Amazon trucks and speed traps. While pumping gas, I closed my eyes and listened to the interstate traffic. Sounds like the sea.

Crossing Interstate 77 somewhere between West Virginia and Ohio, I thought about the night I drove through this area four years ago when I took my father’s ashes to Saginaw Bay. I listened to paranoid talk radio for hours, and I still remember the frantic voice of a late-night caller who said, “We can’t get the blood out of our eyes fast enough to see what’s coming next.” This observation felt true during those turbulent weeks before the 2016 election. This year it feels like a mantra. Best we can do is keep our vision clear. Do whatever it takes to stay healthy, rational, and present.

Those midnight shows also played a commercial for freeze-dried food with a chipper man who’d say, “Just a few easy steps and your family is eating a delicious meal instead of fighting for scraps in a food riot.” Hopefully that commercial remains insane.


SUSS – Road Trip Part 3 (The Lonely Path)

High Line | Northern Spy Records, 2019 | Bandcamp
Each night in 2020, I wrote a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I wanted to etch these days into my memory. Before the world changed completely.
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