070914 #copperhead It's amazing how long of a drive this is. When did I become so afraid of dogs? I'm in the car eating cheezits and drinking a beer and careening down a hill and all I can think of is that there was a time when the pack of semi-wild dogs on the shoulder would have been a thing I would have walked through, low and slow, using my instincts, but now I'm embarrassingly grateful to be racing by in a car spewing dust. Jesus, did I even have a car at that time? How did I get down to the river that first day? Yeah, I walked, that's right. The realization hits me like a slap across the face from a rival pool-player in a dive bar who's just realized he can do whatever he wants with me. Jesus, what the fuck have I become? I throw the bottle in the back seat, because regardless of whatever else has happened to me, the fat gut, the flabby arms, the paling constitution, I still don't believe in littering. Ah, these feeble myths on which we warp our tapestries of self. It's funny, really, but I don't feel like laughing about it. Maybe a little farther down the road—shouldn't I have come to the turnoff by now?—I'll stop the car and it'll be dark and I'll get out by the soft shoulder and some weedy grass gone to seed and