I’m having dinner at a Japanese restaurant . . . in the booth behind me are a couple straight out of Sons of Anarchy. The man is about 45, large, with a shaved head, tattoos and a motorcycle jacket. Same description for the woman, except for the shaved head. Her jacket is emblazoned with PROPERTY OF TROG (or FROG or ????, couldn’t make it out clearly), which I assume is the name of either a motorcycle gang or the gentleman sitting across from her. Midway through the meal, Trog wonders aloud if Smokey and the Bandit is available on Netflix. To his chagrin, the movie doesn’t seem to register with his girlfriend, so to jog her memory, he pulls up the “Eastbound and Down” song on his phone and plays it loudly enough to be heard by everyone in the vicinity. He then launches into an analysis of the film… Read more →
EppsNet Archive: Trucks
And So it Goes
Joe Bell, 48, was walking cross-country from Oregon to New York to memorialize his gay son, who killed himself after being bullied. Bell’s journey began April 20 and ended this week on a two-lane road in eastern Colorado, where he was struck and killed by a tractor-trailer whose driver had apparently fallen asleep. Read more →
Notes From Interstate 5
It poured rain all the way from San Jose to Los Angeles . . . “It’s a good day for cows,” I say to my son, as we drive by a field of happy-looking bovines. “It’s raining,” he points out. “I don’t think cows mind a little rain. They get to eat lush, moist grass. Instead of dry grass. Do you like to eat a dry salad with no dressing? You don’t, right?” No answer. “I’m trying to think like a cow here.” “My phone would go out right in the middle of a text message,” the boy says. “That’s awful,” I say in mock sympathy. “It is,” he says. “It was a thoughtful, heartfelt text message.” “How thoughtful and heartfelt can a text message be? Aren’t you limited to 160 characters?” “Not to Verizon numbers.” “Oh. Well, that is disappointing then.” We’re driving past an agricultural area… Read more →