Last Exit to Nowhere
"Seeking only workman's wages, I come looking for a job, but I get no offers, just a "come on" from the whores on Seventh Ave." - Simon & Garfunkel
" My thumb goes up, a car passes by, oh won't someone please help a guy, hitchin' a ride, hitchin' a ride" - Vanity Fare
Hitch-hiking and looking for a job. Two pastimes that took up a majority of my time back in the 70s.
The road had a loneliness that appealed to me. It gave me time to think, really think about what might lie at the end of my journey and all that had come before. Introspective demeanor, I guess. There is no shortage of stories in this blog about my hitchhiking adventures. My stab at poetry is littered with them. It was a time that was unique to my early manhood and has not nor cannot ever really come back.
All I have are memories of the greatness that once was, the freedom, the angst, and the fear of tht long ribbon of blacktop heading to far distant places. What might hppen between this poin and that was a complete crap shoot. Getting rides from nice families, servicemen on their way home on leave, a van filled with smoke and long hairs pasing the bottle round, even a stolen car with a maniacal sledge hammer head that I was lucky to escape. Then there were the frequent unexpeced thunderstorms, the long line hitchers on an on ramp who arrived before you did and last but not leaset, the odd jobs I would find along the way.
One of the great institutions during the 70s was a company called "Man Power". Almost every town had one. Like WPA and the CCC during the depression, these joints doled out day jobs to wiling stewbums where you were promised a days pay for a days work. I a pinch it was alright, however, the work could be especially tainted with dollops of Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" so you had to be vigilant. You were not guaranteed a job on any particular day, so you had to arrive early to get in line. I'm here to tell you, no matter where you are in the world there is nowhere quite as cold as 5 am in the morning in anytown USA. Having an empty stomach at the same time is no fun as well.
Jobs I performed ran the gambit from carpet installer to book bindery machine operator. The only saving grace being that at the end f the day you could collect your cash and finally get a bite to eat and then head on back down the road. It is the connective tissue of all Americans, the thing that keeps tethered together, for better or worse. Songs, books, and movies are filled with road stories, there just might be something to it.
