Thursday, June 9, 2011

Final chance for hippie to ignore your advice

The train is about to depart the station. My work on the seacoast is finished. I'm only burning through savings by supporting Philbrick's Fresh Market produce manager's ludicrous prices by staying here. I was tempted to take a job delivering car parts for Napa but one must have priorities. There are several organic farm internships I'm interested in more over in Maine and Vermont. These are all alternate plans to my wolf expedition. I have enough money to survive. How far north I will go remains to be seen. There are limits to everything and I recently read that the entire 1300 mile road to Happy Valley is gravel with intermittent pavement. That means dust and broken windshields and broken headlights. I need to get a headlight at a junk yard as a spare. The trip up the Alaskan Highway was mostly gravel and packed dirt in 1989. Our windshield got smashed but we made it. This road into Labrador is less traveled but the trucks probably leave a wide wake. But that's what makes it special. It's not a road people drive often. And there is no other way to see those places for a few hundred dollars. So, the time is now.
This computer is slowly falling apart. The internet has surpassed the abilities of 448 Mb of ram. I can't edit a photo let alone a video. I don't see how I can post anything from Canada if there is no internet, no electricity and no video editing device. And I would prefer to adopt the lifestyle of my evangelical friend outside of Quebec City who ruled over his car scrap yard during the day and cut lumber at night and went to church on Sunday and killed chickens on Saturday to eat. The internet and it's legion of demons hold no sway over Msrs. LaChance. Considering the amount of influence we individually have over the internet it's relatively meaningless whether we interact with it or far as the internet is concerned. Food and shelter are the two words I keep repeating to myself. If you can secure food and shelter than you are a fully functioning animal. Everything else is pure propaganda from the mini skirts and silk cravats to the spiderman underroos and eye liner and Kindle reading aids. It's all propaganda and cultural filigree.

So, I'll be taking my 1974 Vespa Ciao with me because the possibility of breaking down in the middle of the gravel wilderness makes me want to have an alternative. I'll ride that thing over muddy roads to find a water pump for the van. Or my butterfly wing cufflinks may take flight again and allow me to cliff dive from the ledge of my self loathing narcissism. The updraft of the wolf spirit will carry me home to the land of the muskox and snow rabbit.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.