A nice post about Truck and my favorite painting, the one I also sang about in “Indiana.”
Used that ’51 International last night. Had a four-year-old ridin’ co-pilot.
While down in the pole barn digging corn cobs out of the bed of my frozen truck at the crack of yesterday’s below-zero dawn, it struck me that a warmer truck post might be in order.
Hoping they’ve weathered the cyclone.
I met Ryan once, when he helped me lug some sound gear into the library in Eagle River, Wisconsin. I didn’t know him, I just picked him out of the audience because he looked like he could lug things.
Looks like life and work will preclude me traveling to this one, but I’m going to try and set up a Skype…want to do whatever I can to join this group, even if it be in a virtual state.
If I did drive the ol’ Binder down there, I’d probably need three days, two barrels of oil, and three sets of tools…
Just got an email from a reader who writes:
i just finished Truck. i came across it accidentally at the library while looking for books on anti-lock brakes. go figure, huh. but what a grand stroke of luck.
And a grand stroke a luck for me as well. Because as I wrote here, it’s not the first time my Truck has been stuck where you might least expect it.
A nice notice in the Times-Union. That story about Frank makes me snort out loud every time. The author’s regular columns are here and germane to the emerging new-rural-whatever-we’re-calling-it life.