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I'm terrified of highway driving and anything outside my comfort zone. So I decided to take the highway 1,300 miles outside my comfort zone...

lyrics

LYRICS:
I pulled over somewhere south of Laramie to throw up in the red Wyoming dirt and slump against a Toyota Sienna, where I thought about my grandma. This van used to be her's. I climb back in, adjust the driver’s seat. The doors, all riddled with Marlboro burns, tell stories like a redwood bearing rings as I white-knuckle myself across the Earth. Another nervous breakdown in Evanston. My cell phone didn’t work, but the nice Motel 6 clerk let me use the landline at reception and whoa, mom, I don’t know what I’m doing. Whoa, dad, I don’t know how to manage. I hung up and tried to breathe, then stress-ate delivery. I passed out to the Sci-Fy channel. I got an atlas at the grocery and a backpack full of protein. Got a good friend in Boise with a couch. I kept the seat guards in your memory, with the jackpot wild cherries, and I shivered as they carried me out. The sun is going down. The rumble strips all singing: don’t you dare quit on me now... I pulled up and parked the van outside her house. I hadn’t seen her since the band broke up. She gave a beaming tour of the town. I think it made me homesick for a place that never was. We met up with a couple of her friends for a local parking lot Oktoberfest. The breeze was far more frigid than the beer, so we left for someone’s backyard fire pit. It must’ve been several months since I laughed until I cried. We relived our Boulder days, raised our bottles by the flames, shared a cab and sentimental goodbyes. Whoa, Kat, I’m gonna miss you. Whoa, I don’t even feel tired. I woke up in Idaho, the smoke still on my clothes. I hit the highway smelling like a campfire. I got a coffee and an Advil for the throbbing in my ankle. Got a good friend in Seattle with a room. I keep the funeral program tucked in the visor for good luck and I’m happy just to know where I’m from. I kept the seat guards in your memory, with the jackpot wild cherries and I smiled as they carried me home. The sun is going down. The rumble strips all singing: don’t you dare quit on me now, it's shoulder to the wheel until the sound.

credits

from Since the Thing that Matters Most, released July 11, 2021

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Zachary James Ward image

Zachary James Ward Los Angeles, California

In a past life, I was murdered by Charles Bukowski after defeating him in a freestyle haiku battle. I was briefly reincarnated as a gorilla in the Cincinnati Zoo before dying the exact same way. This time I chose the form of an ostensibly straight white man because I don't like challenges. Now I write songs about being him.

"Floating like rogue ash
in a sea of lukewarm beer.
Suck it, Bukowski" ... more

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