I once read an ebook that included the question asking whether I would live nomadically if I could.
It asked where I would go, how I would decide where to go and what life would be like if I didn’t have just one place to call home.
The answers, of course, were in songs.
For some reason, the lyrics to Otis Redding’s “The Dock of the Bay” began flowing through my brain.
My home’s not in Georgia, but it’s close. I guess, if I were going to travel, I wouldn’t mind heading for San Francisco to the bay and seeing all of the sights along the way.
I doubt I’d leave my heart there, but you never know.
Maybe I’d take the route described in Chuck Berry’s “Promised Land.”
If I went up to Norfolk, Virginia, which is the song’s starting point, I’d just go on up to Washington, D.C. because I’ve never been. I want to see the sights and go to the Newseum.
I’d be a nomad so no one would care if I fudged the lyrics a little.
I’d hop a Greyhound (if Greyhound’s still in business) and ride across both Carolinas into Georgia and back to Alabama. I’d make Chuck’s stop in Birmingham to visit, not because I’d be stranded.
I’d by a train ticket just to ride the rails and watch the trees fly by as I went into Mississippi and Louisiana.
I’ve been to New Orleans, but I’d go back to see more of it. I’ve been to Texas, too. It’s big and flat, but I want to see the Alamo and the cities I didn’t see the last time I was there.
I don’t think I’d get on a plane and risk missing the scenery, but it’d be nice if someone would stay true to the song.
They could by me a silk suit, some luggage and a T-bone steak a la carte.
I would not object.
I’d make a pit stop in Albuquerque before I finished the trip west to L.A.
When I got there, I’m guessing I’d have just enough money to make it to the telephone, call the folks back home and tell them the poor boy’s on the line.
I’d like to see the Northern Lights. I’d like to see Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore and Niagara Falls.
I’d like to go up to Canada and down to Mexico or Brazil.
I’d like to see Australia and go to some kind of island.
One day I want to travel to England. I’d like to ride through Europe and trek across Asia and Africa.
I want to see the world. I want to learn about the people, places and cultures in it along the way.
I’m sure, after all of my travels, I’d find myself back on the country roads that would take me home.
Songs of the nomad

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