Today’s topic for February Smackdown is “Highway”.
All day I’ve been trying to think of what to write on this topic, and I'm stumped.
I wrote a poem called highway when I was in school yearsandyearsago. I posted it here about, gosh, 8 years ago. I don't write poetry anymore.
As a non-driver, I’ve always loved songs about the open road. In fact, all day long I’ve had Gillian Welch’s “I Dream a Highway” in my head. Such a good song.
It's a popular concept. There's a whole sub-genre of songs romanticizing road trips and long stretches of road. Taking off. Somewhere far. No agenda and a full tank of gas. There’s the promise of renewal, chance encounters, of fleeing everything that’s oppressing you.
Maybe that pure, silver vision of yourself will magically rejoin your floundering meat sack at the next turnpike, and you will remember everything that makes you sacred, true and beautiful.
But I can’t help but suspect epic, transformative road trip stories are kind of bullshit. Roadtrips – at least initially - don’t remedy, but amplify directionless-ness. Got an obsession you’re trying to kick? You’re going to be boxed in a car with the monotony of road ahead with nothing but problems to keep you company.
But forget what I just said. Turn up the stereo! It’s a new year, and deep-shit-frozen-hearted winter and we need to focus on the road ahead, the full tank of gas, the infinite stretches of highway taking us far away from here, even if it’s all metaphor.
Oh I dream a highway back to you love
A winding ribbon with a band of gold
A silver vision come and rest my soul
I dream a highway back to you
