Relaxing on the long ride to New Orleans
I was sitting in the train station in Atlanta this morning and for some reason, my brain decided to stick a quarter in the mental jukebox. What song did my mind choose to sing over and over since I only know one line of it? The Last Train To Clarksville by The Monkees was where the turntable stopped.
Mind you, I grew up listening to music from this era. With all the puns I come up with, I shouldn’t have been surprised that my mind would reach back and snatch this little gem from the annals of music history. I can’t count the number of times today along the way that my brain has gone through that one statement….”the last train to clarksville…”.
I left Atlanta this morning on the Crescent 19 train heading to New Orleans for the Pride 48 weekend of frivolity and joymaking. We are currently just south of Boligee, AL on our way to Livingston. I’m familiar with this area as that’s where I went to college. Very country area with only the college to keep it going. To me, I would have never had a reason to know this place existed otherwise. Trees, roads, fish ponds, and more trees. Oh yeah, rivers too. The Black Warrior and the Tombigbee Rivers are pretty large here. If you would like to see Alabama’s answer to the White Cliffs of Dover, then head on over to Epps, AL where the white chalk lines the banks of the Tombigbee. It’s a beautiful sight in an otherwise bleak, tree-covered area.
I’ll try to make more posts as the next couple of days pass by. I am sure that a gathering of this many warped people has to be a gay old time.
