Indiana, Again (Part I of an on-going travel story)

[create_destiny]

I was in a band once when I still lived in Indiana. We called ourselves "Egg Bag" and I played the drums. We were together for two days when our singer found Jesus and quit the band. Later he realized it wasn't Jesus, but an allergic reaction to nutmeg. But it was too late. I had already fled the Midwest before Jesus could find me too.

If my life were a movie, the soundtrack for my childhood would include a montage of Harry Chapin songs, songs from the album Free to Be You and Me and Queen’s “Don’t Try Suicide” all of which would be played while a ten year-old version of me stared uneasily at a framed print of Pavel Tchelitchew’s Hide-and-Seek which still hangs in my parent's house today.

The song that bests suits the period in my life in which I fled the midwest would be P.J. Harvey’s “To Bring You My Love” which I played louder than my crappy speakers could handle as I drove through the hilly Missouri countryside, simultaneously cursing God and finding a strange comfort in the wavy, tar-filled lines in the highway.

She made her mind up and up and up---
     sideways,
          all ways,
              70 West
billboard whispers, I am the Way,
I am the Truth,
I am the Life
Yes I am pushing
forward into thick Missouri fog
having only faith the road continues
merging drawn up into moonlight

      I'd go like this for you.

REALITY IS A LIE!
Her life spilling
into ghost towns
rock shops
truck stops
appliances on the lawn
Indiana to Texarkana

      I'd go like this for you

Road Kill, Road Kill,
icky, sticky Road Kill.

I thought Houston might be my final destination, but I was wrong. I was wrong about a lot of things in those days, including my brother-in-law Bill, who turned out to be a good husband to my sister.

But Texas wasn’t for me, so I kept on going. It took the better part of two days to get out of that state. When I got to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico I couldn’t decide if I wanted the Truth or the Consequences, so I kept driving until I got to Albuquerque.

Comments

[eversearching.livejournal.com]

Please continue with this story!

[just-jenn.livejournal.com]

*uh....where's the rest? I need more!!*

[thedeepgreensea.livejournal.com]

Midwesterners are very nice people who don't get their due...but I don't care how many times someone from Michigan gives me the "It's beautiful here" speech...I don't buy it...everything is so blah...not unlike Texas, but at least they have people with cowboy hats here...and Mexican food.

[createdestiny.livejournal.com]

Mexican food is one of the most important things in life.

I'm not sure about the people in cowboy hats, though.

[thedeepgreensea.livejournal.com]

If you can't take pleasure from guy who wear cowboy hats and boots and take themselves seriously, you probably need to reevaluate something in your life...they are almost as funny as guys who wear leather vests (and nothing under it) with a motorcycle manufacturer on them...

I think....

[createdestiny.livejournal.com]

Michigan is beautiful, by the way, and so is western Texas.

Re: I think....

[thedeepgreensea.livejournal.com]

Michigan looks like Mississippi to me...it's the kind of state you could almost imagine a secret militia of anti-government types hanging out...but that would never happen, right? I mean, there could never be a crazy group of camo wearing, gun-toting, federal building bombing guys in Michigan, right?

Re: I think....

[createdestiny.livejournal.com]

I've never been to Mississippi, but Michigan reminds me of the Pacific Northwest. The further north you go, the lusher it gets.

Re: I think....

[thedeepgreensea.livejournal.com]

yes, but it's missing the mountains...

[whosplittheatom.livejournal.com]

"Egg Bag"?! o_O that's hilarious, I love it!

he only thought he found Jesus, and the nutmeg was only placebo anaesthesia to numb the horror of being bitten by a fishgoat.

[nameleswanderer.livejournal.com]

That painting gives me nightmares. How could you take it?

[createdestiny.livejournal.com]

Let's just say I take a lot of Prozac now.

Art is a dangerous thing. It can be a souce of hope and beauty or despair.

I fully believe that some art can contribute to the onset of mental illness, especially when children grow up with a piece like this in the home.