Journal #9

On the Bus
Travels with Jesse

I guess you could say I was a hitch-hiking fool, when I was in my twenties and thirties. A head full a places I had to get to, and a pocket full of not much except lint...LOL!!! So, I'd stick out my thumb. Riding freights was not an option, because I was not going to do that unless taken on a demonstration ride by someone who had "hoboed" alot, which never has happened...so, I stuck out my thumb... First time I rode Greyhound was from Rawlins, Wyoming to the first town in Nebraska...I was in a bind, and had to call friends in Santa Clara county, California to wire me the money...it was one of those be out of town by sun-down situations...hitching as far as Des Moine, Iowa, I got stuck, swallowed my wild, young pride, and called my family, who wired me enough for another bus trip to Chicago - where a friend from back East actually took me to O'hare airport and put me on aplane for NYC. Mostly, I started using Greyhound, or Trailways to get to the west coast around 1978...I'd had enough of hitching through Arizona, Utah, and Colorado by then that I didn't care to "try my luck..." I've been put on trains, planes, and busses five or ten times by friends, who made their contribution to the Busking Basket that way. Since then, I tell people not to judge a Busker by what you see in the Basket, alone...many people who never put any money in a Busker's pocket's or Basket, or Hat will nonetheless insist on taking you out to dinner, giving you a ride to the local Greyhound stop afterwards, or even give you a phone number of a friend in a distant city...