Life Is a Lot of Little Lonely Drives

The curse of overactive minds I know—and so (or yet) I’m a devotee of sleep. It’s the only way to escape and regenerate.

So on weekends when I’m home, I amble into Coffee Emporium well into the afternoon. During a recent visit, a musician began setting up his equipment not long after I arrived. I was annoyed and ready to leave. But then the lead singer greeted the crowd, “Good morning.” It was 2 in the afternoon. I stayed.

I figured out the musician’s name: Chico Futuracho. He later sent me a disc of his music since, in a show of poor self-promotion, he had NOTHING with him during the performance.

One of his songs speaks of life as a series of lonely drives. Actually, quite a few of his songs speak of driving. Here’s a sample of a favorite:

Notes on driving

  • My mom let me drive long before I had a license, not uncommon in Indiana. My driving instructor caught me in the act—but that was because he lived across the street from me.
  • My next vehicle will be a Jeep. (I now own a Jetta, former marriage property.)
  • In Cincinnati, I love driving the 71-Norwood Lateral-75 loop—just to think. Maybe wallow on occasion. There’s something about driving that occupies the left side of your brain, freeing up your creative mind. There’s liberation, movement, and a little music too.
  • I’ve been before a judge three times, all due to motor vehicle offenses. Clean since 2001.
  • I have a top 5 alone drives, and a top 5 with someone drives, but that’s for another time.

If you want to hear more Chico Futuracho, he’ll be performing at Emporium again, and interrupting the half-asleep Sunday coffee drinkers, on March 21 at 2 p.m.

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