At a rest stop somewhere in West Virginia – let's say Beckley – I checked email on my phone, which is one of the ways I keep from getting lonely on the road. I was probably munching chocolate-covered peanuts while I read this. It reminded me of how essential it is to have great friends, and it reminded me to be present and savor every bit of this couch-surfing world domination tour. From today's quasi-guest-blogger and lifelong friend, Jeffrey Bell:
"Man, I'd love to be your chauffeur on this trip. I'd steal an old Cadillac (remember the one I rented to pick you and Barb up in Vegas? That was a hoot!) We'd stay on blue highways and farm roads. A wide selection of rock n roll and country blasting from the speakers, interspersed with papist conspiracy podcasts and local farm reports. You in the backseat, a sleep mask over your face, drinking medicinals, throwing dead soldiers out the window at speed limit signs. Me, hopped up on adderall and cherry cough syrup as I steer you through time and space toward some book store from the future. "
Amen, brother. Someone hand me my sleep mask?
