“Not all those who wander are lost.”…J.R.R. Tolkien
“A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.”…George A. Moore
Highway 90 is a journal about a highway and a song (songs) related to that highway. The roadway studied here is U.S. Highway 90. It runs from Van Horn, Texas to Jacksonville, Florida, for a total of 1633 miles. It’s not a true East/West thoroughfare. It doesn’t connect sea to shining sea. If you start in Jacksonville, Florida, then the road dies in the dry West Texas plains. If you start in Texas, then it ends at the banks of the Atlantic Ocean. Either way, there will be a big expanse of nothingness to greet your end. I guess it depends on one’s perspective as to where it begins and where it ends.
In a sense, like all roads, it never ends, because other paths, no matter how large or small, crisscross its journey. Even if these roads are just dirt trails, local paths and not even official rights-of-way, they will still lead to somewhere, to something, to someone. So, no, they never end. They just amble and ramble along with the traveler, never knowing what he or she might encounter next. Highways are like life itself. I think that’s why they’re so interesting. When a road, like Highway 90, runs East to West (or North-South), it’s all those roads which intersect with it that complete the mosaic, the story of why it exists. Most of them will run North/South (vertical) because Highway 90 is “horizontal” (East/West). But not all will. Some will “come-in” at an angle, meander around, then “take-off” in some wild, unexpected direction or just become dead-ends. This is where the connection of roads to people begins to appear. Roads take us to places. Some are spectacular, truly awesome! Others are terrifying and traumatic! Most, probably, fall somewhere in between. Once we see them, they’re forgotten quickly, unless some important event is intermingled with them. What causes these events, one might ask. You guessed it, usually people. This is when, as the old saying goes, “the plot thickens.” Of all the things we encounter along Highway 90 or any highway, the beautiful, the ugly, the dangerous or the serene, it’s the people who make it the most interesting and unforgettable!
Although the name of this musical journal is “Highway 90 Remembered”, the stories and songs contained herein are “The Bluebird Chronicles.”
We live in this “Dark Comedy” called life. Often, we have serious obstacles to overcome, in order, to stay functional. When we look for the good in others and in ourselves, we are given the strength to go forward into this dim, unforgiving world. The human spirit should never be underestimated. Its capacity for good outlasts its penchant for bad. We learn how to be better human beings by observing it in others, seeking it for ourselves and honoring it in us all.
The Story of a Song
“Git on Back to Ealum (when you get the North Walton Blues), is a song which uses real places in the Florida Panhandle, metaphorically, as a gateway to help remind us of universal and age-old truths. In our busy, complicated, and often very harsh existence, it is easy for us to forget that we, as unique beings of our Creator, have far more in common with each other than this world often lets us remember. In all of Heaven and Earth, there is nothing more powerful, nothing more complete, nothing more transformative; nothing as everlasting, nothing as emancipating, as love. It is the common bond which unites, heals and outlasts the passage of time and events. Whenever any of us earnestly searches for the single reason of “why we are here”, our answer is found in the pot-of-gold which resides in this rainbow of life. Here lies our own personal answer, and, yet inside, the reward, the reason, is the same for us all. It’s love!
This is the story of a song. Its name is, “Git on Back to Ealum.” It came out of nowhere, a long time ago. I was riding home from work (my trip had just begun). I wasn’t especially in a song writing mood (I come up with one every now and then). When it began to take form, it was like steam rising off a river in the early morning fog. I gave it no help on its path to creation. I sat in my car, and like a sponge, absorbed its soul. The tune delivered lyrics and music, all in one. All that was missing was the bow-crowned gift package in which it should have been contained. It didn’t take long for the song to be constructed before my eyes and ears. “Eyes, you say?” Yes, I could see this song. The lyrics, that is, and the images they related. The metamorphosis of the song from absolutely nothing was very brief. In less than just a few minutes, the song was mine. My trip was about an hour long. So, I had plenty of time to sing it and to get the feel of it before I got home. When I walked in the door, I ran to get my guitar. I wanted to play the song and imprint it before it slipped away. Songs can do that, you know. I don’t recall how long I played it that first day. I wrote down the lyrics and put them in a safe place. It didn’t take me long to realize that I would never forget these words. I had no idea what they meant. But I knew that they meant and mean more than meets the eyes and ears.
Oasis of the Mind
For decades I wondered who sent this tune to me. The catalyst was not of my own doing. I was merely the recipient of this enigmatic production, delivered to me by an unseen and unknown messenger. For many years I had wished that he/she would have brought to me a song of some economic value. But that was not to be. That was a foolish hope on my part. This ghost of a mailman knew better. He wanted a musical hobo, someone not predicated to lengthy hours of practice and routine (but he still expected me to give my all to it). He wanted someone very unlikely to pen such a reflective, if somewhat elaborate tale. He wanted someone with rudimentary, simplistic abilities, as they relate to the arts. The messenger wanted someone who would not change what he had brought, all adorned in his gift package. The messenger wanted the recipient to know that he could do no better. I, the recipient of his blessing, would take his prize, his gift, and pass it along, unchanged, as my own. But the phantom messenger had faith that I would identify him, in time, as the true author. I do appreciate his confidence in me. Patience and wisdom, for him, are, indeed, among his many virtues.
The result of his actions (I now know that he is a Sir), turned me into a bard, of sorts. Not like Hank Williams or Dylan, mind you, nothing that grand! But a bard, nonetheless. One who travels, from time to time, in the backstreets of the mind, trying, in vain, to see where it might lead. At first, as the song implies, I thought that this place (Ealum) was only geographical in nature. But as time passed and I grew older, I realized that this song is about something deeper. These simple lyrics (I call them mine now), are words which I’ve repeated hundreds of times to the point of having squatter’s rights to them, like “adverse possession.” They tell a story. This song is ultimately a “travel melody”, even though there is little melody in it. It is basically about rhythm, tempo, timing and, ultimately, searching. The places mentioned in the verses are real. They are not “made-up”, so they are not fantasies of geographical imagination. They are parts of the Earth on which I have stood while having a heavy heart and unclear path forward into darkness. You’ve been there, too. Maybe not to “my places”, but to your own part of the world with many of the same thoughts I’ve had. For we are all travelers. We are all on our own, personal “road trip of life.” We are each searching on this journey for our own unique “oasis of the mind.”
Road Trip in Our Thoughts
As we take this “road trip in our thoughts”, it is much like an actual road trip, from point “A” to point “B”, along some long, lost, lonesome highway. All these highways, roadways and byways leave us confused, no matter the scenery we encounter along the trip. Whether we go from coast-to-coast or border-to-border or just across a handful of states, it really doesn’t matter. We never know where we’re going, not really. Just like each individual mile we travel, we live each day, one at a time. We can “step on the gas” and make the miles pass quicker, but a mile is still a mile. A day is still a day. The faster we go, whether in miles or days, the quicker we run out of gas. We must find a place to stop, to refuel, to stretch our legs, and to refresh our bodies. For a few moments, we find our haven on this lonely piece of highway. We need to remember that this respite from our trip is a metaphor for Ealum, and a very poor one, indeed! We are experiencing only physical rejuvenation. Ealum is an oasis, in and of the mind. We have a sense of urgency, a hunger for the unknown to become familiar once we round one more bend or transcend one more mountaintop. What we desire is not known to us, at this point. We have never known Ealum. We didn’t even know it existed. It is a co-dependency. Therefore, we focus, and meditate, on the rhythm, tempo and timing, not on the trip itself (because we don’t know where we’re going). We concentrate only on the actual vehicle carrying our soul to its monumental destination.
We feel the vehicle’s hum, its energy, its power, the way it scoops us in its arms as it protects and projects us down the barren stretch of concrete. This concrete, this highway, just like the song our heart is singing to us, has no time for melodies. It is on a mission, a quest, a crusade, to save us, not from the unsavory possibilities of the open road but from the roadblocks, detours and dead ends of our minds, and ultimately, our hearts. This thoroughfare is about our safety of another kind. Safety which becomes a sanctuary, an oasis filled with redemption, forgiveness and gratitude, which, together, formulate this ever-elusive lifeblood of contented and continued existence.
Haven of Peace
If our journey (mental road trip) is a successful one, we will find our ‘Haven of Peace’, or, in my case, my “Ealum”, or, in any case, the ‘Oasis of Mind’ and you will find yours. I like to think and hope that this song, brought to me long ago by the Dark Sir (Mr. Crow), can be of some help to you as you search. This song has been a steady companion to me. If it merely opens the door for you or, better put, inserts the key into the ignition to begin your trip, then I’ll be well-satisfied as having accomplished my goal. Remember, that was not my objective when the trek first started. I, too, was confused, unsure where I was heading, not having any idea what these words meant for me. It took me years to understand their significance and why they mattered. Part of their lesson is time-released. They are like a medicine. Their healing properties are real and are, I now realize, time-tested as well as time-released. In other words, we see their significance and authenticity as we age, and usually not before.
This is the story of a song. It’s also the story of the messenger (The Crow) who delivered it long ago. It’s also the story of the Crow’s unlikely companion (The Bluebird). He helped to unravel the mystery of the song and to explain how it should be sung. They each have a part in this story, just like each of us has a part in this story of life. That’s why we’re here. No one quite like us has ever existed before or will ever again. This is a critical lesson we all must remember. It is so easy to lose sight of it, in our busy world. Our world is filled with glitter, glamour, loudness and so many other distractions. We need a safe place, a refuge from this confusing and, quite often, cruel existence. A place where we are loved by people whom we love. Sadly, often they have passed on, physically, but they reside with us still, in this special cocoon of peace. Here, in this hallowed haven, we all become celebrities. We are all heroes. We are all special beyond imagination. We are all honored by each other, for no other reason than for who we are. And, simply, because we are loved and cherished.
It’s Living That’s Tough
The Crow and the Bluebird have emerged and merged to recount this story-song (and others like it) to us. It’s one they’ve told so many times before and will continue to do so until the end of time, regardless of whether we listen or not. This is our invitation to sing it. It’s our turn to hear it. It’s our time to be part of it. If this song does nothing more than to usher you into this new-found era of self-acceptance, then its mission is accomplished. It is meant to be reassuring, soothing, and, yet, not completely fulfilling. Hopefully, there will be a yearning that remains as it ends, a sense that the trip has just begun, that there is much more yet to do! We realize that there is a melody in this song. It is somewhat hidden throughout but tends to follow its performance in reverberation. It lingers after the fact, reminding us that life is meant to be enjoyed as it happens and to be re-lived at its own pace and on its own terms.
We are not weak people because we need this special place of solitude. But weak we are, anyway. Humans are a strange mix of weakness and strength. The key is to be weak, and strong, at the right moments, to be in sync with our inner core and with the times that swirl around us. There will be times when we look to others for solace. There will be times when others look towards us. The lesson is to not “look away”, in either event, but instead, give our precious time to those who seek our comfort and understand that we need their comfort, as well. We are all in this world together. There are so many songs throughout history which speak to this undeniable fact. Yet so many of us try to ‘go it alone’. What a serious and tragic mistake that will be, if we take that approach to life. There may seem to be some inexplicable glory or courage in being a ‘loner’, a ‘recluse’, a ‘hermit’, an ‘island’ or any similar metaphor of loneliness. However, those actions are usually the result of fear and weakness, not strength. They are forms of death and dying. As someone once said, “Dying is easy. It’s living that’s tough!”
So, once more, we come back to this song at hand. It’s a tune which celebrates life and all its grandeur. It doesn’t imply or insinuate that life is easy or is always kind to us. It is a reminder, however, that life is worth living and remembering. When we remember our past, what inevitably comes into focus? It’s the people who made our lives worth living in the first place! As we age and our time becomes short, these people who were there, for, and with us, reappear in our daily thoughts as never before. If we needed proof that there is a soul, a life after death, then here it is! If we are in tune with ourselves (and that includes our past), then these wonderful beings (family, friends, acquaintances and strangers) will all take their rightful place in this “hall of heroes” and in this “parade of personalities.” Because now we know, now we understand, what we didn’t, just yesterday, and many years before. We shouldn’t live in the past, but the past should live in us. It’s in the past where we find our reason for being here. What will we find when we go to the past? In this case, we find our “safe place.” We find our “oasis of the mind”, our “Oz”, our “Ealum”, our “Valhalla.” We are all warriors of this world. We will all be slain in this battle. We usually don’t decide how we die, but we do decide how we live and how we love, and why. When all is said and done, life is love and love is life. And, yes, they co-exist in two parallel worlds which are brought together in each of us, when our hearts and minds unite in the “oasis of the mind and the soul.”
Emissaries of a Higher Power
“Git on Back to Ealum (when you get the North Walton Blues)” is the original name of this story’s song. The community of Ealum (now called Liberty) does reside in Northern Walton County, Florida, along with New Harmony (Stella) and Darlington and Lakewood. They are real places, inhabited by real people who somehow manage to live in these imaginary places of the mind. These people may not realize where they live, only because the Dark Sir (The Crow) hasn’t spoken to them, yet. Or maybe, he has. Maybe they do know that they live in these special, hard-to-find places and will welcome this tune, this song, this story, as verification of their inner known truths. In time, we shall see, hopefully.
In reality, I did, long ago, travel to all these aforementioned places, with much the same thoughts in my head as recalled in the song. The Crow was sent by higher authorities to inform me of my mission so late in my life. The Bluebird tagged along with him to inform me that my journey has been important and deserves to be recounted. I would have much preferred to have gotten my orders earlier in my existence. However, we have no say in these matters. What is true for me is probably true for you, too. May we take this journey together? You are more than welcome to be my sidekick, my road trip companion, as we seek this elusive truth for us all (if my epiphany is correct)! If we find it, we find incomparable value in ourselves and in our simple being.
Just as this story is based on a song, this is also a song based on a story. This tale revolves around a number of songs, hence, the collection of tunes as promoted by this accidental endeavor. All of this is by happenchance. The creation of these songs was never planned. What is being written about them now, as we speak, is a daily crusade, performed by an inadequate bard. To make sense of them and why they’re here, why they exist, is a hard task, indeed. Regardless of their value and why they were delivered to such an undeserving host, I cannot answer, but still fervently believe in their worth. And can this recipient, however limited, organize these sounds, these words, these lyrics, into something meaningful. That’s part of the underlying story, for me, at least. I’ve had my epiphany, my revelation. But, by no means, do I understand all that this adventure is trying to teach me. We can learn together, as we travel along, alone and, yet, combined as one. We aren’t just travel companions. We become students of the Crow and the Bluebird, both of whom are emissaries of a higher power. If we follow their teachings, then we will know, at least in part, why each of us is here and why we matter. Instinctively, we know this is true, but often, we want to know why. We need verification. Remember, that’s what “Oz” was all about. It’s what Ealum is about, too. It’s what the “oasis of the mind” is about, in its finality. We want to feel special. We know that we are! And we want to know why. We yearn to be in a place where uniqueness is glorified. The people who love us, do that for us and we do it for them, too. It’s an uncanny assemblance where the journey and the destination become one and the same.
Love Has to be the Only Answer
We’re back now, on this road trip of life, where the hum and the rattle of road take form again. After all, we’re human beings. We must keep going forward or we will die standing still.It has been said that “when we are behind the wheel, as in a vehicle, we are in a position of power and responsibility, and those are inseparable concepts.” That sounds true to me. The song of “Ealum” tries to illuminate and highlight that imagery. It’s an attempt to remind us, because we are unique and special, that our personal power is unlimited as it pertains to our acceptance of this world. We accept it on our terms, not on the whims and directions of others. It’s that acceptance, this bargain, that we make with the powers-that-be, who are not other human beings; but forces whose power cannot be matched by any mere mortals, which gives us the last and final word. It is how each of us interacts, not only with the dark forces around us, but also with the wonderful, uplifting and purely beautiful events of human existence which will write the last chapter of our all-too-brief lives. We have an obligation to ourselves, and to those who love us, to carve a path through this wilderness of the living. At the end of this magnificent journey, we either stand on a majestic mountaintop or disappear into the sunset.
We become the remembered by remembering. It’s a fair exchange, indeed. Why should anyone remember us if we forget those who made us important while we lived. Why and how did they make us valued as people? They simply loved us! That’s how. To forget them is to forget love. To forget love is to forget why we are all here. It is, in a sense, denying the basic reason why we exist, why we were born in the beginning. Love has to be the only answer!
This simple little song (Ealum) is an attempt to explain remembrance and gratitude, encapsulated in redemption, which, together, is just another way of trying to define the concept of love. I enjoy playing and singing the Ealum song. When all is said and done, there, remains love, for me. The Crow and the Bluebird have brought, to me, this mission. I accept it gladly. I hope that, somehow, this song of remembrance and gratefulness while seeking forgiveness, will connect with you on your journey to find love in the “oasis of your heart and mind.” When they are bonded together, they do, indeed, create a “New Harmony” which will survive into Eternity.
Highway 90 Remembered 