It’s too hot, since my bionic knee isn’t up to par yet there isn’t much I can do but stay inside and try to chill.
I had an English teacher in Jr. high who ever so often would have a list and we would have to pick something from that list and write about it. He would then pick his favorite and read it in front of the class. All my fellow students and friends hated this. I secretly lived it! Give me a reason to write and I’m gunho!
I remember though walking into class one day, the teacher pulls out a cassette recorder…yea, anyone remember those? Anyway, once everyone was seated he clicks it on and we all. Hear bongo drums, and the sound of seagulls and the surf. Then he begins to read….it’s my essay! Omg, I felt like sliding under my desk! I had written about the beach and he had turned it into a Hawaiian paradise! LOL all I can remember is being mortified and yet so secretly proud. But I think I told my friends…omg how could he have done that!!! How gross!
Any way, sitting at the breakfast table this morning my dad said something about blacktop and Diesel smoke. He said gee, I should write a country song and make millions. Well he goes off but what does my stupid brain do?
Blacktop and Diesel smoke, going home to see my folk. Ain’t been home in awhile.
Gonna hear sweet baby cry, wanna hear my lover’s sigh..being in her arms is such a high.
Listening to 18 wheels a turn, feeling that asphalt burn..I know this old rig won’t let me down.
Got a bunch of miles to go, thinking as the dashboard glows…they all know I love them so.
Turnin in that familiar drive, seeing that warm porch light glow just makes me feel so alive.
Blacktop and Diesel smoke, going home to see my folk. Ain’t been home in awhile….
Ok Mr. F. Thanks for the memories.