Otherwise, it’s a pretty smooth ride, with a water bottle snugged in beside you and a hot desert sun shining above. There’s nothing on the AM/FM dial except Mexican mariachi music, which is good enough to hum along with, but you lose the cadence when you can’t sing along because you don’t know the words, let alone the language. Luckily out here you can’t get the ubiquitous Jeebus-preacher stations common to middle-of-nowhere America; probably because this high desert is hell already, so why would those Men of God waste their time trying to radio the damned that live out here? So you stab at the SEEK button, and what to your surprised ears do you stumble across, but KNPR, the Vegas National Public Radio outlet.
A-and, while you wend your way down this two-lane, then four-lane tar-line, you hear the Studio360 program du jour, which is a celebration? discussion? what have you? concerning the 50th anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s “On The Road,” a particularly good talk-fest for a long, lonely highway such as this.
Apparently, you learn, this is the silver annum of this now treasured American classic, which brought a be-bop, beatnik enthusiasm to the rich American travel experience, building on J.F. Cooper’s Gleanings, Twain’s Huck Finn, and updating Steinbeck’s angry grapes for the hipper generation. Doc Thompson covered it too, in his wild escapades across the desert to our American Cibola in the West; and there are probably many more epic trip stories that aren’t even reminders in your brain while you speed along, listening and learning.
After all, isn’t there a famous quote that says to understand
Kerouac’s prose hints at some of that, but also puts it on the path to individual discovery. In this case, as so many others, through the American road. The journey. The path. That’s right, the road trip. Spiritual descendent of the pioneers in their covered wagons, only now we’re not blazing an original trail, we’re following a pre-determined one, laid down by highway engineers who based their original surveys on long-traveled dirt trails and Conestoga buggy paths. So, what Kerouac understood, was with the path already in place, that henceforth with each road trip, the trail-blazing, the pioneering had to take place in the mind of the individual, and furthermore, that the individual had to simultaneously both understand and to deny that; to understand that they were on their own individual trip, as well as following an arc or ribbon on society’s trip.
Wow. Heavy. And, given that you never even read the book until you were thirty, and thought it only so-so, it’s just the kind of meanderings you might expect from a four-hour jaunt across a harsh, unforgiving landscape, in society’s current chrome-wheeled, fuel-injected, air-conditioned, stepping-out-over-the-line vehicle – the American automobile.
And further, you’ve just ridden this conveyance to the epitome of American extravagance and waste,
Granted, everyone knows that Vegas is a complete fantasy. We (meaning everyone who visits) accept, and even encourage that. Walking the Strip this morning, amongst the current edifices are dozens of construction cranes and towers, hurling up even more thousands of rooms into the area, making the Vegas downtown look like
Like I said, a fantasy. And all roads, even Dean Moriarty’s, lead to Vegas, or some other Eldorado on the hill.
But I’m a simple guy, and out here in non-fantasy-land, we’ve got some, ummmm, bumps in the road. Some potholes, if you will, in the Kerouac Zen dream of
First, let’s talk about energy.
Last week, OPEC, said that they will probably increase output by 500,000 barrels of oil per day. Now for most people, OPEC is synonymous with
Now 500,000 bbl/day divided by 20.8 million bbl/day current use in the
Now, given that OPEC controls much of what’s known to be left in the ground oil-wise, and given that stated U.S. policy going back to Carter (hell, back to FDR) has been the unobstructed, inevitable dynamo of growth in America – which relies almost exclusively on oil – doncha maybe kinda think, just for a minute, that WE, as a matter of national policy, were ah, I don’t know, a teensy-eensy bit short-sighted by placing all our eggs in that basket? That maybe we shouldn’t have built our entire worldview (driving everywhere, easy-to-grow food, new-and-amazing medicines and medical discoveries, the heat for our damn houses) on something that’s halfway around the world?
Oh, that’s right. We weren’t placing all our eggs in that basket, because up until 1973 or so, the good ‘ol
Until, one day, we weren’t. We’ll discuss that in the next post, and maybe touch a little bit more on the future of the Kerouac dream of the open road.
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