Runaway

It’s Nineteen-Seventy, finally got my degree,

Time for me to flee, ain’t got no pedigree.

Prospects lookin’ dim, head out on a whim,

Outlook’s pretty grim, glass without a brim.

My money is all blown, the future is unknown,

Call the banker on the phone, get a tittle loan,

I’m skippin’ graduation, to drive across the nation,

A man on the run, the pomp do I shun.

Head out ‘cross Dakota, knowin’ not one iota,

Prob’ly used my quota, this is no Minnesota.

Motored to Des Moines, someone to rejoin,

her heart to purloin, maybe make some coin.

“You ain’t the one for me!” she finally sets me free,

At last I can see, she wasn’t into me.

Head out once again, at lovin’ I can’t win,

Where do I begin? just a lonesome Bedouin.

Stop at Omaha for gas, damn ol’ starter’s stuck,

I ain’t got much class, and I ain’t got no luck.

Fix it with a wrench, then I’m on my way,

I’m never in a clinch, I can run all day.

At Rifle Colorado, parkin’ on a hill,

Goin’ with the flow, I will eat my fill.

Midnight run to Moab, stop outside a bar,

Thought I’d take a stab, at sleepin’ in my car.

Tendin’ bar tomorrow, thanks to Aunt Irene,

Ended all the sorrow, life becomes serene.

Only one week later, for Vancouver I am bound,

Nuthin’ can be greater, than haulin’ mail around.

Turnin’ North at Elko, lonesome highway blues,

Twistin’ like a gecko, wishin’ I could snooze.

Columbia River Basin, the freeway is so nice,

The future I am facin’, but I don’t think twice.

Message from Wah-Choo-ka*, in Arizona Land,

And never had I saw, a salary so grand.

Next mornin’ finds me packed, headin’ down the road,

And it’s a cold hard fact, it’s my next abode.

Mojave desert’s hot. Sonoran ain’t much better,

Radiator’s shot, wish my tongue was wetter.

Rollin’ into town, journey at an end,

Cool enough to drown, one more night to spend.

Lookin’ kind of rough, clean up in the park,

Barely got enough, for Finley’s Trailer Park.

Up in the High Desert, I could spend my life,

Soon I am a convert, and I’ve found a wife!

LDT Oct 17, ’21

*Fort Huachuca, Arizona

I arrived in Sierra Vista, Arizona in the late afternoon of July 4, 1970. My odyssey over, I slept in my car in the desert that night. The next morning, I cleaned up as best I could at the city park. Then I rented a tiny vintage trailer for 50 bucks at Finley’s Trailer Park on Fry Boulevard.  The rest of my money was spent on a frying pan and some food. I called home to get my last VA education check sent. It would be a long month before I got paid.

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