Check Engine Light

don't know why but every time I cross that river / Lord, there's somethin' tears me up, makes me wild

lackluster week, Chuck jumped out of the truck before he dragged me to Tim's house pounding High Life tallboys on the front porch on the Monday evening chill air set back in the forest of Pittsburgh. I'm back to running solo, fighting every night for a 10-hour parking spot. I'll take any patch of dirt as long as it's next to a 24-hour restroom (shitting in a bag in a bucket never makes one feel at ease). my first night alone I made a home in Paducah, KY in a little mom and pop off the main road. found it a year ago running from Illinois to Kentucky and impressed myself by writing a silly review on the truck stop app (usually full of the same bullshit and complaints about dirty restrooms and broken fuel pump reports). there's something about Kentucky that hits a cord with me, it's not quite like West Virginia with it's jagged hills and winding river towns. the people run the course of Cincinnati suburbs to the Blue Fugates, not much different from the rest of the country except maybe when you find a "real one" especially when they're not going on about Democrat-controlled cities from a truck that costs as much as a beemer. anywho, I've made up my mind if I ever take a writing sabbatical it'll be in some rust belt grotto edged up next to a mineral extraction pit and a Dollar General. there's something about this place that makes the supernatural seem ancient. there's lots of labor history and that war that got fought, some local stories I'll probably never get because I'm shy in the wrong way.