My wife and I went to an Ani DiFranco concert here in Salt Lake on Saturday. We’d never heard of her, but the promise of free tickets to an outdoor concert on a summer night sounded too good to pass up.
While waiting in a very long line to get wristbands (we already had tickets, I’m not sure why we needed wristbands too) we met Christian. “I’m selling handmade jewelry to get money to, well, eat. That and to fix up my ’72 VW van.”
Christian wanted to make it back to Monterey, California and from there, who knew?
We admired his handiwork but didn’t have any cash. I told him about this project and he was more than willing to write in my journal. Once we found our seats (next to a girl who was already throwing up in the bushes – nice) he began.
“The nights just startin! She’s already piss drunk and I can’t remember her name, too bad I’m movin on. It ain’t all bad, I’ve been here for years, and worked so long ya think I could have at least moved 10 ft, but its all good the weather’s nice, the foods good and I’m well enough to live till tomorrow. Yet still I swear I’m goin sometime to somewhere fine. Freedom is fine, and free, but why does it take so much from me? Life can’t be defined by how much money you make, how new you are or how fast you made it. If even I die poor, I still lived!
Since the wheel first turned we’ve been turned in time to meet its end.”
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