The sun is shining on a typical warm day. I roll my sleeves up, let the window down, and watch the train go by. The battered Union Pacific, Southern Pacific, and Santa Fe boxcars roll past, clackity-clacking and swaying just a little on their way to “Cow Town.”
Then they are gone, so I turn up the CD player. A guitar strums and Texas singer/songwriter Bruce Robison tells an old story:
You can’t get there from here
You can’t live on bread and water
You heard the one about the farmer’s daughter?
She just needs a little atmosphere
You don’t pick your occupation,
I didn’t ask for this frustration
I need a life and an ice-cold beer
And you can’t get there from here . . .
So many broken dreams in the world. So much unhappiness. But what can I do about it? What can any of us do?
Something about the Texas troubadour’s sad words jogs my memory. I was at the grocery store. I usually just hurry through, picking up a little of this or that, and head over to the express checkout line. ...