Between abolutes
I drove next to a frieght train for almost 45 minutes yesterday. 70 miles per hour. Both of us. 45 minutes.
I even drove over the top of it twice. True story.
As the moments passed and I thought of where the tracks were laid out in front of it, and the road in front of me, having been down this way before, I realized I would not be rid of my driving companion anytime soon. So I turned the stereo off, and cracked the window open. So I could hear. Through the wind you could still hear the grinding of the wheels. At this speed however, it still seemed quiet. Much different than watching one go by.
I knew grape fields or corn or grass or somthing green would be behind it if only it weren't foggy; but as it were, the train barreled up state with a plain white background. Spookily smooth. Relaxing. The both of us headed toward a plain white horizon.
Driving along, I thought it was strange that the flow of traffic was matching the speed of the multi hundred ton vehicle so consistently. Maybe I wasn't the only kid on the road that was, I admit, a little distracted by this. After all, how often do you get to join a train for the morning commute?
My thoughts returned to the tracks. Thoughts of how much that entire train, in all it's multi ton and 70mph glory, is relying, very dangerously, on the people that inspect and repair the steal beams in front of it. If I see a pot hole, in my truck, with me at the helm, I just swerve. On the train, maybe not so much. I tried to picture what might happen at this speed if there were a hiccup in the consistency of the tracks. Maybe someone stole a piece to pawn for scrap, or a car accident moved a section on one side a single inch.
It suddenly occured to me that I was driving.
I am driving... when I should be on the train.
as Tyler woud say, "Just let go."
"Self-improvment is masturbation. Now self-destruction..."
I even drove over the top of it twice. True story.
As the moments passed and I thought of where the tracks were laid out in front of it, and the road in front of me, having been down this way before, I realized I would not be rid of my driving companion anytime soon. So I turned the stereo off, and cracked the window open. So I could hear. Through the wind you could still hear the grinding of the wheels. At this speed however, it still seemed quiet. Much different than watching one go by.
I knew grape fields or corn or grass or somthing green would be behind it if only it weren't foggy; but as it were, the train barreled up state with a plain white background. Spookily smooth. Relaxing. The both of us headed toward a plain white horizon.
Driving along, I thought it was strange that the flow of traffic was matching the speed of the multi hundred ton vehicle so consistently. Maybe I wasn't the only kid on the road that was, I admit, a little distracted by this. After all, how often do you get to join a train for the morning commute?
My thoughts returned to the tracks. Thoughts of how much that entire train, in all it's multi ton and 70mph glory, is relying, very dangerously, on the people that inspect and repair the steal beams in front of it. If I see a pot hole, in my truck, with me at the helm, I just swerve. On the train, maybe not so much. I tried to picture what might happen at this speed if there were a hiccup in the consistency of the tracks. Maybe someone stole a piece to pawn for scrap, or a car accident moved a section on one side a single inch.
It suddenly occured to me that I was driving.
I am driving... when I should be on the train.
as Tyler woud say, "Just let go."
"Self-improvment is masturbation. Now self-destruction..."