Along any given highway or by-way, a bevy of societal wants, needs, and dreams are exposed to passing eyes, and I’m ashamed at how often I don’t notice it. From manors of brick to houses with vinyl siding to doublewides on open lots, the route to happiness is bordered by lovely and livable, elegant and convenient, material and natural – the spectrum of lifestyles concluding that happiness is truly graded on the curve.
I’m always amazed at the difference in dreams in a melting pot of hope and despair. Some find happiness in the house and some find joy in the home. Some find peace on a patio over a 15 by 12 patch of Chem-Lawn special, and some find it when there is no grass in sight. Some chase balls over fields of green in electric cars and day-glo pants. Some chase ducks through fields of grass with automatic weapons and day-glo vests. And some just drive by and try to make sense of it all.
This is an excerpt of The Rucksack Letters by Steve McAllister. Buy your copy of the eBook now.