the North Coast

As I drive, I continually hit the scan button on the radio. “There has to be one out there…” I think to myself, weaving in and out of bay area traffic. Then I hear the faint, crackling voice through the car speakers, “….my name is Fiona, and after a long night seeing off a good friend, I’ve been drinking coffee all day so I can play whatever I want for you…”

A local community radio station for the towns along the rugged 101. In my mind I see a wooden one room shack in the mountainous countryside, with Fiona, the cool hippie chick drinking coffee out of her homemade mug to abate last night’s hangover. Her voice is barely audible, so I floor the gas pedal of the Volkswagen and drive north. To her voice, and adventures to be found on the North Coast…..

What I am is what I am.


Oh, and I saw the tree you can drive through.  For a small price.
America.

3 Comments

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?