The poem, for which I had stressed, is all typed out; its completion awaits a moment’s rest.
Onto the portfolio assignment which I must admit, the specifics for which I had not taken a moment to learn until now – a collection of past work, up to 10 pages double-spaced.
Part 5
“I prefer airplanes myself, but I see a lot of smiles through the window of your RV so I guess that’s all that matters.”
“Well Hill, it’s been a pleasure. We have a couple of more days of driving ahead. Now, I am calling those mountains on. They’ve got nothing on the Matthews family.”
“The pleasure was mine, Ken. If you’re ever in the market for a vehicle, I’ll give you a Blockbuster of a deal.”
Chuckling. “Actually, that ragtop Camero is calling my name; a little reward for conquering the west coast and most notably, the interstates through Los Angeles; Crazy sons-a-guns. “
Well now I feel bad, but not really. A midlife crisis purchase. It’s like taking candy from a baby.
Ken and I went out for a test drive. It was hard to believe that this was the same petrified guy I had met two weeks prior, who looked like he was ready to stick his thumb in his mouth, crawl under a table, and call out for his to mommy. It’s like 14 days in an RV through high elevations had given him a new lease on life – or the constant elevation changes killed a few brain cells.
I liked this new Ken. He was fucking crazy. I was sucked to the back of the passenger seat as he whizzed up Pilot Butte and back down. If he didn’t make the news driving the RV, this thing was going to find him wrapped around a pole.