Jack Kerouac... Well, this is a deep seeded issue with me, and I'll go over it some other time. It's memories carry overtones of when I joined the Marines, the months before leaving to boot camp, and traveling over 3/4 of the world by the ripe old age of 22. Basically, the beatnik dream, in a controlled lifestyle.
My first Kerouac I finished, "On The Road," was at 2 in the morning, in Okinawa, while Cobra helicopters, C-130's, 141's, and the occasional F-18 flew overhead doing touch and goes, while sitting on the footsteps of Brig. General Hagee's building. Homesick, young, tired, doing whatever I could to hang onto what little piece of home I had in a place that couldn't have been any further away from home or normalcy. Back then, it was the best book I had ever read. It's still up there on my short list of great books.
The book is basically about living by the seat of your pants, hopping into your car, getting out, seeing the country, work your way through it, traveling Route 66 with your best friend. Letting the chips fall where they may. Goods, bads, and everything in between. Taking a chance, giving up what you knew to be normal, just for a chance to create your own "normal." It fit perfectly for me back then. Rough times for me personally back then. Mostly why I joined the Marines in the first place.
It was a great time. Time for reflection. A lot was happening in my life at that time. I like to refer to these times as Pre-Heuer. Everything after July of 1998 has become Post-Heuer.
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