Not very Keroac-ian

This semester i taught a basic sewing class in Houston at one of the community colleges. To this point i had either taught in a private setting or substituted for someone else, so this was the first time i got to see everything from start to finish. I believe the class went well and the students were satisfied with what they received. The last class could have been better, but funny things happen when i'm in Houston. Last fall i was supposed to teach this class, alas there was a hurricane and the dates were changed enough to prevent me from doing the gig and having my surgery and being there for Donna's. This time, Houston had torrential rains and tons of flooding. Many of the school districts were closed that day and the little boy that died of the Swine Flu died that morning also. Attendance was poor, but i received great feedback from the ones that did turn out. I've been invited back to teach three sections of sewing in the fall and i tenatively plan to do just that. However, all this is just precursor for a moment i had the next day. A Wednesday. Typically when i'm returning home from down there i follow the same steps every time. I am very much a creature of habit. This day was no different. I was traveling on the lighter side, for me. I had taken my machine and all of my supplies home the week before because i had oral surgery and didn't want to have to lug all of my crap with a face full of stitches. At any rate, i got up and showered and packed and my lovely sister-in-law drove me over to Katy to where the bus station is, well to a mexican restaurant a few doors down. Before you ask, yes, generally i ride the bus. First reason, it's a good tax receipt and secondly, with an Ipod, Blackberry, and a laptop, not to mention a good old fashioned legal pad, it's a good place for me to scratch out a line or two or just power down for a while. Anyway, back to this restaurant. It's called, Los Altos de Jalisco and the food is super modest and super good. Not to mention, with a face full of stitches it wasn't like i was going to be eating toast anywhere. I opted for a Chorizo omelette and some refried beans. I was teasing the waitress a little asking her for corn bread. She didn't know what the hell i wanted corn bread for, but she took it all in stride. As i said, i'm a creature of habit and this was in no way the first time she'd seen me. The food was really good that morning, i don't know if it was cause i was hungry or if it was truly better than normal, but i thoroughly enjoyed it, paid and left.

Now here is where the moment occurred. Like i said, i was traveling light. I realize light is relative and i am a nightmare for my camping friends cause i overpack like Lucy from the old show "I Love Lucy". All i was carting around this trip was my lucky backpack and a 36" duffle. Each one of them weighed close to fifty pounds. I know this for a certainty as Greyhound charges freight on any bag over fifty pounds and they love to weigh mine, especially my trolly with my machine. In the duffle, i had a couple changes of clothes, my happy quilt, my stinky pillow and a jacket. More or less, that was what i had in there but it still managed to be quite heavy. Now the magical backpack i have, truly is a marvel. I take it everywhere for a singular purpose and that is so when i get the urge to write i have the tools i want to write with. Pretty simple really.

Okay, so i'm walking the two blocks to the bus station to wait for the bus and suddenly i'm having a conversation with Jack Kerouac. I was telling him i was on my way home at the end of my current journey. When he asked me what i did, i told him i was a writer masquerading as a sewing teacher and he just laughed. He laughed at my kleenexes and my hand lotion. He was further amused with my collapsable cup and my tea glass: my thermal compartment with my three bottles of frozen mango tea, the laptop with two movies (master and commander and kung fu hustle), the ipod, the blackberry, the portfolio, the gradebook, a change of clothes...and a couple of peanut butter protien bars. He said as he pointed off to the east, "You've lost your way. It's out there, on the road and all you need is this." When i looked back, he was holding a little pocket notebook and a stub of a pencil. I took a breath and he was gone just as he had appeared. I stood there a good long time, just me, the birds, and a mildly stale cigarette, wondering if i even had a pencil in my backpack.