When the tests came back,
It was time to take that nostalgia ride
We’d always promised we would
But kept putting off
the way most of us seem to do.
Packed gloves, guitars and a flag
Into a borrowed van
with suspect, seasoned tires
that screamed:
“This vehicle not for hire.”
Just like Canned Heat and Willie
We hit the highway with a grin.
Sound system failed after a hundred miles,
So we took out the Martin, and sang:
“Bye Bye, Miss American Pie,”
which segued into
“Glory Days” and “Born In The USA.”
We made music for the miles to pass,
While keeping our eyes on the path ahead,
Running from the facts we’d left behind.
When we crossed into the state of New York,
a game of favorites began.
Willie Mays. Hank Aaron. Sandy Koufax. Yaz.
Yogi. Mickey. Roberto. The Babe. And Lou Gehrig.
Boston’s epic comeback against the Yankees.
By the time we reached Cooperstown,
We were giddy and primed,
as we thundered into the museum:
Fanboys on a lifelong mission.
Way too soon,
It was time to go,
But we knew we needed
Our first hotel.
Tomorrow was a long haul to Cleveland.
Neither of us slept well,
But Bing’s advice ruled:
We accentuated the positive
while eliminating that negative.
No chance we’d mess with
Mr. In-Between.
Anytime is the right time at
Lake Effect Diner in Buffalo.
Blizzard Breakfast with Big Bucks Bacon.
Back in the van.
“Momma, don’t understand it
Wants to know where I’ve been.
Have to be some kind of natural born fool.
To pass that way again.”
But we could feel it
On that country road.
Later, we said a few prayers for Lefty
For growing old in cold Cleveland
And then sang every Beatles tune
We could remember.
On our way on foot,
We thought about
Janis and Jimi.
Skydog. Tom Petty.
Chuck Berry. Bo Diddley.
Buddy Holly. The King.
And too many others to
actively toast.
Guess it’s fitting this hall
is located between the coasts.
Rock and Roll is a verb, a noun,
A way of being, an attitude,
A life preserver, a reason,
A cause and an effect.
It is oxygen.
It is speed.
It is heaven.
And hell if the amps are fucked.
Two long days
And little sleep
Prompted a hotel search;
Pancakes for dinner
Helped us shuffle off to dreamland.
For a while.
In the morning, Google said
It was 6 hours and 19 minutes
to Arlington National Cemetery,
Our third and last destination.
We thought about our friends
Who’d served and didn’t come back.
Sacrifices. Honor. Courage.
How bravery and humility
Become perfect partners.
During the first stop for gas,
We took out the flag and placed
It on the front seat between us.
Arlington is to Cooperstown
as Cooperstown
Is to Cleveland:
Places for celebration and prayer.
Nothing but love
For those we honor most.
Nothing but love
As we chill with the old ghosts.
i
