My good friend Alan Vaughan called from Gary, Indiana. He was driving to Florida. I told him I was leaving for New England. We hadn’t seen each other in a good 6 or 7 years.
“How you getting north?” He was ready to suggest an airline.
“I’m hitchhiking on I-95. I figure it will take 3-4 days.” I had a ticket from West Palm Beach to Boston, but preferred to mythize a prosaic economy-class voyage. “I’m broke so that’s the only way I can get there.”
“You’re kidding?” He was incredulous. “I haven’t seen a hitchhiker the entire trip from the Upper Peninsula.”
“Not one.”
“Not one.”
“Well, I’ll be a blast from the blast.”
I hung up and then called the next day from the airport saying I was in Jacksonville. The next day from Dillon South Carolina. This morning in Roanoke Virginia.
I’m making real good time.
By the way I’m already drinking coffee on Watchic Pond in Standish Maine.
For a related article click on this URL
http://www.mangozeen.com/in-absence-of-amnesia-by-peter-nolan-smith-2.htm
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