ON THE ROAD

I first read On the Road as an impressionable 15-year-old. It changed everything for me. Suddenly, there was a world of possibilities I'd never considered. It gave voice to all the longing I'd never understood. A vehicle for the restlessness that had nipped at my heels. It lit fire to my soul. For the next several years, I lived, breathed, and dreamed anything beat. And the first chance I got to shuck my old skin for a new one, I didn't hesitate. Days after graduating high school, I packed a suitcase, bought a one-way ticket to New Orleans, and with just a few hundred dollars in my pocket, went in search of life and adventure. I wasn't thinking about college, long-term goals, or a secure future. I wanted now, to live in the moment. To "simply be--be--be--."

{from the passage, "Hold still man, regain your love of life and go down from this mountain and simply be--be--be-- the infinite fertilities of the one mind of infinity, making no comments, complaints, criticisms, appraisals, avowals, sayings, shooting stars of thoughts, just flow, flow, be you all, be you what is, it is only what it always is -- Hope is a word like a snow drift--This is the Great Knowing, this the Awakening, this is Voidness -- so shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry..." Jack Kerouac, Desolation in Solitude}

Originally, a good friend was supposed to go with me but she skipped out at the last minute. I decided right then and there I would never base my decisions on whether I did something or not on anyone else, even if it meant going it alone. I've kept that promise to myself.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid but I was young and naive, an idealistic day-dreamer and romantic. It still astounds me that my parents allowed me to go on my own. But then, it never occurred to me I couldn't. Years later when I asked my father about it, he said, "I couldn't have stopped you." And of course he was right. Even then, I rarely changed my mind once I'd made it. When the plane landed in New Orleans, I lingered for hours at the airport, feeling alone and unsure. For the first time, I was on my own with no one to meet me and nowhere to go. And suddenly I felt very small in a very big world. But eventually, I took an airport shuttle to the YMCA. I figured, if it was good enough for Jack, it was good enough for me. Unfortunately, it didn't quite live up to my romanticized expectations. Not only was the Y on the wrong side of the tracks and a fair distance from the French Quarter, it was also frequently raided by the police at 3 A.M. But it was cheap. I stayed in New Orleans, first at the Y, and then in an attic share near Loyola University, for nearly two months. That's how long it took to decide there was nothing fun or romantic about being broke. So, I had my dad immediately wire me a ticket home. But even if my adventure hadn't panned out quite as I'd imagined it -- what a story I had to tell.

That solo adventure to New Orleans turned out to be the first of many. I've traveled to back roads and far places, from our own beautiful country to most of Europe, India, Nepal, and SouthEast Asia. I think the urge to be and see more is innate within me, but the spark, the possibility of it, was fueled by the pages of On the Road.

So, I'm thrilled that after several unsuccessful attempts there's finally a film. I've got my fingers crossed it doesn't disappoint. Francis Ford Coppola who first bought the film rights back in 1979 hired Brazilian director Walter Salles (The Motorcylce Diaries) and cast Sam Riley to play Sal Paradise, Garrett Hedlund as Dean Moriarty, Kristen Stewart as Marylou, and Kirsten Dunst as Camille. The film's release date is set for this year (2012.)

"It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow." - kerouac, on the road

WANDERLUST

"We gotta go and never stop going till we get there."

"Where are we going, man?"

"I don't know but we gotta go."

- On the Road

I admit I have itchy feet. I'm dying to take a trip somewhere, anywhere. Wanderlust is a fever, "an ache for the distance", and I got it bad, real bad.

Here.

Always.

Somewhere else.

Photos by Dennis Stock, published as part of a "Kerouac Road" slide show at Slate.

1) California - The state border at Lake Tahoe, 1968 2) California - "The California Trip", 1968 3) United States - The open road for a motorcycle rider, 1971

On the Road

"My witness is the empty sky." - jack kerouac

"Whither goes thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?" - jack kerouac

"Everybody was yelling 'Go! Go! Go!'." - jack kerouac

photos: 2or3things, luannevintage

ROAD RASH

Okay, I admit I'm sort of reaching here. But you try matching a pie recipe to a specific topic. This is an old Amish favorite, so named because of the cookie crumbs that bring to mind gravel roads (I could have just made up that last bit.)

Gravel Pie

1 - 9-inch prebaked pie shell

1/2 cup raisins

1 cup brown sugar OR malasses OR honey

1/2 cup hot water

3 eggs, beaten

1 cup cookie or cake crumbs (save some for last)

1/3 cup flour cut with 1/3 cup softened butter

1/2 to 1 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp nutmeg

1/8 tsp ginger

1. Preheat oven to 325° F. Sprinkle raisins into the bottom of the pie shell.
2. Combine and cook in a double boiler: brown sugar (or molasses or honey), hot water, and eggs. Cool and pour into a pie shell over raisins.
3. Sprinkle the following alternately over pie: cookie (or cake) crumbs (save some for last), the flour already cut with the butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger.
4. Bake 20-30 minutes.

source: pieofthemonthclub

NO PIE IN THE SKY

photo flickr

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion." - Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Sometimes life seems to offer too many choices, and at others not enough. When opportunities are confused with distractions, or vice-versa, and the myriad of options leave us in confused despair. What is the balance between order and chaos, method and madness? And how do we navigate the pitfalls from the blessings, the booby traps from the safe havens, and acquire the awareness to distinguish one from the other? When I look back on the places I've been, the dips and turns, the highs and lows, I have few regrets. Rather, I'm grateful for the experiences that shaped my life, the adventures that molded me into the woman I am.

When I was in my teens I longed for something I could not name, that thing just at the tip of the tongue waiting to be sprung, and grasped. I had not lived long enough to know or understand what my heart craved, but longed for anyway. In my 20's I was fearless, chasing after that ever elusive dream with naivete and reckless abandon, determined that for one brief instant I would "catch up, and live for a moment in unison with it", and that would be my miracle. By the time my 30's rolled through, I was somewhat jaded but ever so conscious that each precious moment was to be savored, not swallowed whole like an afterthought. I did not want life to pass me by like a speeding train as if I were staring out the window, the landscape passing quickly like picture-perfect postcards, just beyond my grasp. Each moment is a confession, a declaration of sorts, a promise yet fulfilled.

There are places in the heart that are hollow and echo with the pain of remembrance. And in the spaces in between breathes all the secret longings never voiced. Somewhere, caught in the wind of indecision, is an echo of what has already passed. Many times I have set out with purpose only to be defeated by my own lack of direction or focus. Wanting and choosing are two very different things. We can want and never have that desire fulfilled because we choose not to take the necessary actions to place ourselves closer to that goal. Each decision is a process, or a promise, that must be fulfilled in order to reach its fruition.

Sometimes it seems there is very little we can control in our lives, the topsy-turvy rotation of our days that despite our need for it to slow down, or at times come to a complete stand-still continues on despite ourselves. Spinning off its axis, leaving us dazed and confused, dizzy and crying to be let off. Slowing down, and getting off the merry-go-round takes both courage and infinite patience. You must find your center, an inner balance that won't falter despite the chaos. Only then can you find sure footing, to plant deep the grounding we all yearn for. Many of believe security comes from the very things that cage us, those things that pin us down, and require far more energy and sacrifice to maintain than they should. Status, power, wealth, possessions, all those things that are external expressions, material trappings that in the end are worthless without love, gratitude, and appreciation for the simplicities of life that cost us nothing. Paring down brings an inner serenity that is priceless. Bringing your house in order, taking care of business, crossing off each item on the 'to do' list of life, and the satisfaction that comes with it - these are the things that stuff of dreams are made of. It's the quiet, uncomplicated incidents that bring you happiness, like having the perfect pen to write with, turning on the radio and hearing a song that exquisitely captures the moment, or unexpectedly coming across the very thing you never knew until that moment you were searching for. Life is a series of simple pleasures that give meaning to our time here and now. Living in the present, driven by the power of now. Not caught up in the net of the past, or the phantasm of the future. The only thing that exists is now, everything else is an illusion that was never in our grasp to have or to hold. When the present fades into the past, nothing but a faint recollection distorted by the folding and refolding of our lives it can offer you little but regret. But nothing is as exhausting as the grasping for tomorrow, for that thing which has yet to happen. It is but a taunting apparition, a yearning or a bogeyman, steeped in hope or shrouded in darkness. For every step backwards, and every blind leap forward, we've already lost right now, tripping in our haste to leave today behind and jump into tomorrow. Now is the breath of life, without now there would be nothing but yesterdays and tomorrows. Without now, instead of memories we live with regret, and instead of possibilities we grasp at nothing. Today should be savored, chewed to the fullest, and swallowed like it's our last meal.

Neil Cassady and Jack Kerouac

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn burn burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" - Jack Kerouac, On the Road

CAUSE LIFE IS DANG GOOD PIE

This is a scrumptious vintage pineapple coconut pie, otherwise known as Dang Good Pie. Best served with a scoop of optimism, and a zest for life.

Dang Good Pie

1 large or 2 small prepared pie shells

1 stick butter, softened

2 tbsp flour

1 can (8.25-oz) crushed pineapple, drained

2 1/4 cups sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 can (3.5-oz) Angel Flake coconut

dash of salt

6 eggs

1. Preheat oven to 350° F. Beat eggs. Add flour, sugar, and butter. Mix well.
2. Add pineapple and the rest of the ingredients, mixing well.
3. Baste the pie shell(s) with beaten egg white to prevent a soggy crust. Pour pineapple cocount filling into pie shell(s).
4. Bake for 45 minutes, or until set and browned. Cool pie completely, and refrigerate. Best served chilled.