My old friend* Christine has a new blog about quitting her job (in Mexico), driving back to Pittsburgh, then taking a one way ticket to Sweden.
It’s one of the best written blogs that I’ve read recently. Flowing prose and narrative arcs guide one through each long and detailed entry. I also love her footnote flashbacks that she sticks at the end of each entry.
Here’s a quick quote from the most recent entry:
Before we go anywhere, however, I have an appointment with Al Garcia. Heâ€™s the body shop manager at Varsity Ford on Highway 6, and heâ€™s promised to jerry-rig the driver side door of my car â€“ the one thatâ€™d been broken into just a few days before in Austin. If done properly, the job should take four to five business days, but Iâ€™ve got a plane to catch in Pittsburgh, so thereâ€™s no time for a proper repair.
Al tells us that it will be a few minutes while he and his crew perform this makeshift surgery. As we wait in the lobby entrance, I hear the body shop employees singing along with an all too familiar voice. Itâ€™s Chente, my 69-year-old Mexican Sinatra. Two workers simultaneously let out a melodious cry into the morning warmth. Itâ€™s a sad cry, like a Johnny Cash caw only more guttural. Mexicans remedy this call with a cold gulp of tequila chased by one long swallow of an icy beer. I know this music very well. It penetrates me, and once more I reach toward something familiar, toward the past four years, until Al Garcia pulls me back.
â€œMs. Waller?â€ he leans his head and shoulders around the corner from inside the workroom. â€œYour car is ready.â€
*She’s actually fairly young, but we’ve been friends for a while.