Jennifer being a journalist you might enjoy this article. You and I are two who are doubtful to grow old alone, we will have kids and familys and people in our lives. Many on here have asked me what I would seek in a relationship. My answer is always, to have someone to be with, and to grow old with. Most seek that, some never find it and become bitter. Much of it is in attitude and resolve. Sometimes you finally grow up and what interested you at 20 just does not interest you at 34, you do not seek the same type of people or relationships.

Many people are afraid of growing old.

I'm afraid of growing old and boring.

Many people are afraid of growing old, alone.

I'm afraid of growing old, insane.

Many people are afraid of losing their looks.

I'm afraid of losing my dreams.

Many people are afraid of losing their youth.

I'm afraid of losing my soul.

When you're 15, 35 seems ancient.

When you're 35, 15 seems juvenile.

A turnaround in a split second - two decades zoom past and

before you know it, it's only a mile to the next millennium.

Don't fear age,

it's a right of person-hood.

Don't fear death- it's God's greatest jest.

Don't grow old - you don't have to.

Don't date because you're desperate.

Don't marry because you're miserable.

Don't have kids because you think your genes are superior.

Don't separate because you think it's fashionable.

Don't drink because you have troubles.

Don't gamble because you think winning is inevitable.

Don't philander because you think you're irresistible.

Most likely, you're not.

Don't associate with people you can't trust.

Don't cheat.

Don't lie.

Don't pretend.

Don't try to buy your way into the kingdom of God.

Don't dictate because you're smarter.

Don't demand because you're stronger.

Don't sleep around because you think you're old enough and know

better.

Don't hurt your kids because loving them is harder.

Don't sell yourself, your family or your ideals.

Don't stagnate.

Don't regress.

Learn a new skill.

Find a new friend.

Start a new career.

Don't live in the past.

Time can't bring anything or anyone back.

Don't put your life on hold for possibly Mr. Right.

Don't throw you life away on absolutely Mr. Wrong because your

biological clock is ticking and you can't afford to have your

eggs harvested before the new millennium.

There's always a mad rush to something, somewhere - but victory

does not always belong to those who finish first.

Sometimes, there is no race to be won, only a price to be paid

for some of life's more hasty decisions.

You can't always go with the throng who could be wrong.

Sometimes, you have to be alone to be enlightened.

To terminate your loneliness, reach out to the homeless.

To feed your nurturing instincts, care for the needy.

To fulfill your parenting fantasies, get a puppy.

Don't bring another life into this world for all the wrong

reasons.

To keep yourself warm, buy a jacket.

In the long run, it will be less complicated and less costly.

To make yourself happy, pursue your passions and be the best of

what you can be.

Simplify your life.

Take away the clutter.

Get rid of destructive elements - abusive friends, nasty habits

and dangerous liaisons.

Don't abandon your responsibilities, but don't overdose on duty.

Don't live life recklessly without thought and feeling for your

family.

Be true to yourself. Don't commit when you're not ready.

Don't keep others waiting needlessly.

Fall in love - it's the greatest thing on earth.

But take care and remember, after the fall must come the rise.

Go on that trip. Don't postpone it.

Say those words. Don't let the moment pass.

Do what you must even at society's scorn.

Write poetry. Love deeply. Walk barefoot. Hold hands.

Dance with wild abandon. Cry at the movies.

Take care of yourself.

Don't wait for someone to take care of you.

You light up your life.

You drive yourself to your destination.

No one completes you - except you.

It is true that life doesn't get easier with age.

It only gets more challenging.

Don't be afraid.

Don't lose your capacity to love.

Pursue your passions.

Live your dreams.

Don't lose faith in God.

Don't grow old.

Just grow up.

An article from Sun-Star daily newspaper ...

By Melanie T. Lim, June 2, 1999

Greg

Kelerh - Welcome! What a lovely, lovely poem. I will have to keep this one. How are things in OK City? I'm from Wichita originally, not too far from you.  Heard it's hhhoootttt! 

G, great article.  I especially find truth in "Say those words.  Don't let the moment pass."   Life is way too short to not:

• say what you mean and mean what you say
• take a risk everyday
• touch a life everyday 
• open your heart to others in every way - you can never have enough friends; there is always someone looking for help, love, encouragement and support

These are the things that matter at the end of the day.

"Some lives, like evening primroses, blossom most beautifully in the evening of life"

Jennifer

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Very pretty Kelerh and welcome. I am a big fan of Cummings and have read all of his works at one time or another.  I have posted a few in here but I do not recall which ones, here is another regardless.

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Byron

The Byron is a very good example of trochaic tetrameter.

Mending Wall

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it
And spills the upper boulder in the sun,
And make gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there,
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Frost....... iambic pentameter I believe.

Greg

The image of the poet's in the breeze

Canadian geese are flying above the trees

A mist is hanging gently on the lake

My house is very beautiful at night

My friend and teacher occupies a spare room

He's dead - at peace at last the Wandering Jew

Other friends has put stones on his grave

He was the first great man that I had ever met

Sylvia and I got out our Ouija Board

To dial a spirit - across the room it soared

We were happy and amazes at what we saw

Blazing stood the proud and regal name Delmore

Delmore, I missed all your funny ways

I missed your jokes and the brilliant things you said

My Dedalus to your Bloom

Was such a perfect wit

And to find you in my house

Makes things perfect

I really got a lucky life

My writhing, my motorcycle and my wife

And to top it all off a spirit of pure poetry

Is living in this stone and wood house with me

The image of the poet's in the breeze

Canadian geese are flying above the trees

A mist is hanging gently on the lake

Our house is very beautiful at night

Our house is very beautiful at night X3

I am learning about Lou Reed also, this is My House.

Kelly

Kelly, I have no doubt that you will indeed find that right person, that everyone will. Live life fully everyday with an open heart and it will come to you.

I am such a huge fan of John Hiatt. Great, poetic lyrics.

We were coming down the old turnpike
Horse hooves pounding, sledgehammer night
You can tell 'em anything you like
I was there with you baby

Silver and diamonds and a skin full of tears
The road narrowed then it disappeared
Maybe you figured you might
Wind up some place like here

Acting like you never cared for me baby
Now you shake me off
Like the dust your boots are wearing
The leather's soft but I'm cold and fast

Makes me cough
'Til I feel my lungs are tearing
I'll never rest 'til I find you at last
Find you at last

The ground we covered's cracked and spit with rain
Not enough here to fill the smallest vein
Be all right if this God-forsaken terrain
Just dried up and blew away baby

Maybe my memory's just not right
But we've been baptized by fire and light
Eaten by the earth
Swallowed up by the night
I don't care where you think
You're gonna stay baby

Now you shake me off
Like the dust your boots are wearing
The leather's soft but I'm hard and fast
Makes me cough
'Til I feel my lungs are tearing
I'll never rest 'til I find you at last
Find you at last
Find you at last
Find you at last baby
Find you at last

I've been searching for an answer
What a waste of time
Should've picked your trail up sooner
But I couldn't stop the pain
That was breaking up my mind

So I found some open country
I forgot the past
I don't care if you don't want me
'Cause nothing matters any more baby
'Til I find you at last

Tonight you're sleeping on a cold dirt floor
And in my dreams I'm crashing through your door
But you don't recognize me anymore
Do you baby

'Til I find you at least
Find you at last
Find you at last baby
Find you at last
Find you at last
'Til I find you at last
Find you at last


Evvvvvvveryone should know this song!!

When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me
And

CHORUS:

Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin'
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me
And when your back's against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me

REPEAT CHORUS

SUNG OVER FADE:
Well, I've been loving you for such a long time girl
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
You see time, time is our friend
'Cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough


And one more for all you dog owners:

she marked our trail
up the back bone ridge
how many times can one dog pee
she keeps me high as an eagle
when i'm on the skids
i guess you gotta come down eventually

CHORUS ONE:
buddy i coulda gone that extra mile
for an extra bark or an extra smile
'Cause i never felt so free
it was just my dog and me
then she gives me that look
like she'd lay down her life
no doubt she would in a minute, man
she'd face the bullet
oh she'd face the knife
just to keep my butt from the fryin' pan

CHORUS TWO:
now she's runnin' up ahead to chase some deer
comes back to tell that coast is clear
it's a different world i see
when it's just my dog and me
there's a rabbit on the run
man and beast and sky and sun
who's talking to the birds in the trees
why its just my dog and me
now it looks like we've been makin' tracks
from the crack of dawn
to the end of the day
so its nice and easy down the devil's back
she wouldn't know
any other way

CHORUS THREE:
so its over that ridge for one last mile
'Til we're fast asleep by the fire side
dreamin' these dreams for free

Jennifer

Now you shake me off
Like the dust your boots are wearing
The leather's soft but I'm hard and fast
Makes me cough
'Til I feel my lungs are tearing
I'll never rest 'til I find you at last
Find you at last
Find you at last
Find you at last baby
Find you at last

Great lyrics Jennifer, here are a few words from a son describing his father:

When I was a child, I would crawl onto my father's lap in the evenings while he sat in the Morris chair in the living room next to the huge fireplace. He would read fairy tales to me, and when the opportunity presented itself, he would say, "Son, there are some things you should know about women (or love, or fatherhood, or booze)," and I would listen carefully to my father's wisdom with faith and awe.

Does this surprise you? It should, because it didn't happen that way. I learned a lot from my father, topics ranging from guns and dynamite to crooked presidents and the importance of loyalty, but not by sitting on his lap. He wasn't that kind of a father. Instead, I learned by observing him, listening to him, and reading his writing. It turns out that these are the lessons that really matter. Words can be nothing more than words. Actions have meaning. Actions matter.

He believed in freedom. He believed in the individual's right to live as he chooses, free from government interference. That meant the freedom to be weird, or to take the drugs of his choice, or to shoot, naked, a .44 magnum pistol from the front porch at 3 a.m., or to tell the truth about Nixon when he was a sitting president by calling him a liar, a hustler, and a tyrant in the national media. He also believed in the power, right, and responsibility of the governed to determine their fate. From his run for sheriff in 1970 to his campaign to free Lisl Auman, he knew that he could challenge and usually defeat those in power when the cause was just. I got from him a sharp sense of justice and a healthy skepticism of authority in any form.

He said two things matter when you break the law: the skill of your attorney and your control of the media. He said that if you're going to break the law, you'd better understand the consequences and be ready to fight like hell. He said that as a self-declared outlaw, he had a responsibility to understand the laws he was breaking, because the law is a sword that cuts both ways, and it can either protect you or cut you down, depending on your mastery of it. In every confrontation with the law, Hunter fought like his life was at stake, and he used every tool at his disposal, from his considerable intellect and knowledge of law and politics, to his powerful and brilliant lawyer friends, to his mastery of the power of the media to influence opinion. He almost always won. I choose a simpler strategy: I avoid confrontations with the law. Or again, perhaps I didn't choose. He was a warrior. I am a negotiator.

Juan F. Thompson talking about his father, Hunter

Greg

I miss my old man tonite
And i wish he was here with me
With his corny jokes and his cheap cigars
He could look you in the eye and sell you a car.
That's not an easy thing to do,
But no one ever knew a more charming creature
On this earth than my old man.

He was a pilot in the big war in the u.s. army air corps
In a c - 47 with a heavy load
Full of combat cargo for the burma road.
And after they dropped the bomb
He came home and married mom
And not long after that
He was my old man.

And oh the fights we had
When my brother and i got him mad;
He'd get all boiled up and he'd start to shout
And i knew what was coming so i tuned him out.
And now the old man's gone, and i'd give all i own
To hear what he said when i wasn't listening
To my old man'

I miss my old man tonite
And i can almost see his face
He was always trying to watch his weight
And his heart only made it to fifty-eight.
For the first time since he died
Late last night i cried.
I wondered when i was gonna do that
For my old man.

Steve Goodman..... a fitting song for today

JJ

Break, Break, Break

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.

I can remember learning this in junior high school.

JJ

Half a league, half a league, 
Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 
`Forward, the Light Brigade! 
Charge for the guns!' he said: 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 

`Forward, the Light Brigade!' 
Was there a man dismay'd? 
Not tho' the soldier knew 
ome one had blunder'd: 
Their's not to make reply, 
Their's not to reason why, 
Their's but to do and die: 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them 
Volley'd and thunder'd; 
Storm'd at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode and well, 
Into the jaws of Death, 
Into the mouth of Hell 
Rode the six hundred. 

Flash'd all their sabres bare, 
Flash'd as they turn'd in air 
Sabring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 
All the world wonder'd: 
Plunged in the battery-smoke 
Right thro' the line they broke; 
Cossack and Russian 
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke 
Shatter'd and sunder'd. 
Then they rode back, but not 
Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them 
Volley'd and thunder'd; 
Storm'd at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came thro' the jaws of Death, 
Back from the mouth of Hell, 
All that was left of them, 
Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade? 
O the wild charge they made! 
All the world wonder'd. 
Honour the charge they made! 
Honour the Light Brigade, 
Noble six hundred!

Charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred Lord Tennyson

I was more enthralled by this Tennyson poem as a youngster. What young man does not dream of valor and combat and violence? Later we learn that innocents die and soldiers die in vain.

And a funny poem

A Guy's Job

A guy sticks his location,
In a girl's destinstion,
To increase the population,
For the next generation.
Do you get my explanation?
Or do you need a demonstration?

Copyright; Emanuel Udrija

Greg

Ok what is next? Limericks? lol

A BATHER WHOSE CLOTHING WAS STREWED
BY WINDS THAT LEFT HER QUITE NUDE
SAW A MAN COME ALONG
AND UNLESS WE ARE WRONG
YOU EXPECTED THIS LINE TO BE LEWD

Jane

Funny one JJ, here is a song for someone special in my life.

They call you ecstasy
nothing ever sticks to you
Not velcro, not scotch tape
not my arms dipped in glue

Not if I wrap myself in nylon
a piece of duct tape down my back
Love pierced the arrow with the twelve
and I can't get you back

Ah, ecstasy
ecstasy
Ah, ecstasy

Across the streets an old Ford, they took off its wheels
the engine is gone
In its seat sits a box
with a note that says, Goodbye Charlie, thanks a lot

I see a child through a window with a bib
and I think of us and what we almost did
The Hudson rocketing with light
the ships pass the statue of liberty at night

They call it ecstasy, ah
ecstasy
Ecstasy, ah
ecstasy

Some men call me St. Ivory
some call me St. Maurice
I'm smooth as alabaster
with white veins runnin' through my cheeks

A big stud through my eyebrow
a scar on my arm that says, Domain
I put it over the tattoo
that contained your name

They called you ecstasy, ecstasy
ecstasy
They call you ecstasy, ecstasy
ecstasy

The moon passing through a cloud
a body facing up is floating towards a crowd
And I think of a time and what I couldn't do
I couldn't hold you close, I couldn't, I couldn't become you

They call you ecstasy, I can't hold you down
I can't hold you up
I feel like that car that I saw today, no radio
no engine, no hood

I'm going to the cafe, I hope they've got music
and I hope that they can play
But if we have to part
I'll have a new scar right over my heart
I'll call it ecstasy

Oh, ecstasy, ecstasy
ecstasy
Ecstasy, ecstasy
ecstasy

Kelly

An old Billie Holliday song,

J. Wolf / Herron / Frank Sinatra

I'm a fool to want you
I'm a fool to want you
To want a love that can't be true
A love that's there for others too

I'm a fool to hold you
Such a fool to hold you
To seek a kiss not mine alone
To share a kiss that Devil has known

Time and time again I said I'd leave you
Time and time again I went away
But then would come the time
when I would need you
And once again these words I had to say

Take me back, I love you
...I need you
I know it's wrong, it must be wrong
But right or wrong I can't get along

Without you

JJ

NIce songs all, I may not be around for a few days but here are a couple favorites before I go:

artist: Tom Waits lyrics
title: Better Off Without A Wife
album: Nighthawks At The Diner

all my friends are married
every Tom and Dick and Harry
you must be strong
to go it alone
here's to the bachelors
and the bowery bums
and those who feel that they're the ones
who are better off without a wife

CHORUS
I like to sleep until the crack of noon
midnight howlin' at the moon
goin' out when I wanto, comin' home when I please
I don't have to ask permission
if I want to go out fishing
and I never have to ask for the keys

never been no Valentino
had a girl who lived in Reno
left me for a trumpet player
didn't get me down
he was wanted for assault
though he said it weren't his fault
well the coppers rode him right
out of town

CHORUS

selfish about my privacy
as long as I can be with me
we get along so well I can't believe
I love to chew the fat with folks
and listen to all your dirty jokes
I'm so thankful for these friends
I do receive

CHORUS

and

artist: Tom Waits lyrics
title: Putnam County
album: Nighthawks At The Diner

I guess things were always quiet around Putnam County
kind of shy and sleepy as it clung to the skirts
of the 2-lane, that was stretched out like an
asphalt dance floor where all the oldtimers would
hunker down in bib jeans and store bought boots
lyin' about their lives and the places that they'd been
suckin' on Coca Colas and be spittin' Days Work
they's be suckin' on Coca Colas and be spittin' Day's Work
until the moon was a stray dog on the ridge and
the taverns would be swollen until the naked eye
of 2am, and the Stratocaster guitars slung over
Burgermeister beer guts, and the swizzle stick legs
jacknifed over naugahyde stools and the
witch hazel spread out over the linoleum floors,
the pedal pushers stretched out over midriff bulge
and the coiffed brunette curls over Maybelline eyes
wearing Prince Machiavelli, Estee Lauder, smells so sweet
I elbowed up at the counter with mixed feelings
over mixed drinks
and Bubba and the Roadmasters moaned in pool hall
concentration as they knit their brows to
cover the entire Hank Williams Song Book
and the old National register was singing to the tune of $57.57
until last call, one last game of 8 ball
and Berneice would be putting the chairs on the tables,
someone come in say "Hey man, anyone got
any Jumper Cables, is that a 6 or a 12 volt?"
and all the studs in town would toss 'em down
and claim to fame as they stomped their feet
boasting about being able to get more a...s
than a toilet seat.
And the GMCs and the Straight 8 Fords
were coughing and wheezing and they
perculated as they tossed the gravel
underneath the fenders to weave home
a wet slick anaconda of a two lane
with tire irons and crowbars a rattlin'
with a tool box and a pony saddle
you're grinding gears, shifting into first
yea and that goddam tranny's just getting worse
with the melodies of "see ya later"
and screwdrivers on carburettors
talkin' shop about money to loan
and palominos and strawberry roans
See ya tomorrow, hello to the Mrs.
money to borrow and goodnight kisses
the radio spittin' out Charlie Rich
sure can sing that sonofab....ch
and you weave home, weavin' home
leaving the little joint winking in the
dark warm narcotic American night
beneath a pin cushion sky and it's
home to toast and honey, start
up the Ford, your lunch money's there on the
draining board, toilet's runnin' shake the
handle, telephone's ringin' it's Mrs Randal
where the hell are my goddam sandals
and the porcelain poodles and the glass swans
staring down from the knick knack shelf
with the parent permission slips for the kids' field trips
pair of Muckalucks scraping across
the shag carpet
and the impending squint of
first light, that lurked behind
a weeping marquee in downtown Putnam
and would be pullin' up any minute now
just like a bastard amber
Velveeta yellow cab on a rainy corner
and be blowin' its horn, in every window
in town.

and

(Tommy Faile)

well you see I happened to be back on the east coast
a few years back tryin' to make me a buck
like everybody else, well you know
times get hard and well I got down on my luck
and I got tired of just roamin' and bummin'
around, so I started thumbin' my way
back to my old hometown
you know I made quite a few miles
in the first couple of days, and I
figured I'd be home in a week if my
luck held out this way
but you know it was the third night
I got stranded, it was out at a cold lonely
crossroads, and as the rain came
pouring down, I was hungry, tired
freezin', caught myself a chill, but
it was just about that time that
the lights of an old semi topped the hill
you should of seen me smile when I
heard them air brakes come on, and
I climbed up in that cab where I
knew it'd be warm at the wheel
well at the wheel sat a big man
I'd have to say he must of weighed 210
the way he stuck out a big hand and
said with a grin "Big Joe's the name
and this here rig's called Phantom 309"
well I asked him why he called his
rig such a name, but he just turned to me
and said "Why son don't you know this here
rig'll be puttin' 'em all to shame, why
there ain't a driver on this
or any other line for that matter
that's seen nothin' but the taillights of Big Joe
and Phantom 309"
So we rode and talked the better part of the night
and I told my stories and Joe told his and
I smoked up all his Viceroys as we rolled along
he pushed her ahead with 10 forward gears
man that dashboard was lit like the old
Madam La Rue pinball, a serious semi truck
until almost mysteriously, well it was the
lights of a truck stop that rolled into sight
Joe turned to me and said "I'm sorry son
but I'm afraid this is just as far as you go
You see I kinda gotta be makin' a turn
just up the road a piece," but I'll be
damned if he didn't throw me a dime as he
threw her in low and said "Go on in there
son, and get yourself a hot cup of coffee
on Big Joe"
and when Joe and his rig pulled off into
the night, man in nothing flat they was
clean outa sight
so I walked into the old stop and
ordered me up a cup of mud sayin'
"Big Joe's settin' this dude up" but
it got so deathly quiet in that
place, you could of heard a pin drop
as the waiter's face turned kinda
pale, I said "What's the matter did
I say somethin' wrong?" I kinda
said with 8a half way grin. He said
"No son, you see It'll happen every
now and then. You see every driver in
here knows Big Joe, but let me
tell you what happened just 10 years
ago, yea it was 10 years ago
out there at that cold lonely crossroads
where you flagged Joe down, and
there was a whole bus load of kids
and they were just comin' from school
and they were right in the middle when
Joe topped the hill, and could
have been slaughtered except
Joe turned his wheels, and
he jacknifed, and went
into a skid, and folks around here
say he gave his life to save that bunch
of kids, and out there at that cold
lonely crossroads, well they say it
was the end of the line for
Big Joe and Phantom 309, but it's
funny you know, cause every now and then
yea every now and then, when the
moon's holdin' water, they say old Joe
will stop and give you a ride, and
just like you, some hitchhiker will be
comin' by"
"So here son," he said to me, "get
yourself another cup of coffee, it's on the
house, you see I want you to hang on
to that dime, yea you hang on to that
dime as a kind of souvenir, a
souvenir of Big Joe and Phantom 309"

Great words, great stories.

Greg