The Road Diaries

by Kevin Carrel Footer

The Man I Was to Become

It was a long time in coming, but finally I met the man I was to become. Along the way – and first – some other people pointed me in the right direction. As you move through life, you cross paths with countless others. A few resonate with you in deep ways. It is, I...

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Poems That Move You

After all the harangues, the children hawking baubles, the young men with hard-luck stories and health dramas, it is a relief when the poets come down the aisle of the Buenos Aires subway trains. They are soft-spoken if they even speak at all. They are well but simply...

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Just a Tuesday Night in Buenos Aires

It’s how I always thought it should be: a string of diffuse and magical happenings super-imposed on each other but offered without much fanfare. Gatherings where all the people who needed to be there just were. Nights full of the unexpected that you somehow knew would one day come your way.

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Palermo with Frogs

As the sun was starting its below-horizon test firing, I stumbled sleepily across Av. Libertador and into my morning routine. Ahead of me, the parks of Palermo were covered in a wispy, teasing fog that removed the bases of trees while leaving their tops;...

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Three Pesos from a Dark Angel

This piece hails from the vault. It is a true story peopled with some colorful characters from the Argentine cultural scene: an artist who used to hang out with Andy Warhol and built a Parthenon of books and an impresario who lived in a glam church. It also hails from a time when three pesos still meant something.

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Cowboy Tango

I have an old pair of cowboy boots. They have ridden long in stirrups, rested heavily on gas pedals across entire continents, and crunched over countless other miles when I had neither horse nor car to my name. They are the relics of a life lived on two feet.

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The Sign

he sign, rimmed in neon, beckons from across a wasteland. The vast pampa may have promised wealth and sustenance in exchange for callous hands – but I wanted none of that. Give me a place to sit and write and contemplate and I will be...

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Liminal Light

I am drawn to the things I cannot see
Pieces just out of perceptual reach
What is well-lit does not interest me
What is hazy and hard to discern
And makes my stomach quiver

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Slightly Higher Apes

“We’re just higher primates,” Rodolfo was saying, “and if anyone wants to argue with me, well then I’ll just bring in Pamela Anderson as exhibit number one. I remember when I was a manager, we’d be sitting around the table discussing...

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Round-up à la Provençale

Montauban-sur-l’Ouvèze, FRANCE – The call came from a neighboring farm: “Could you help us round up a herd of cows and take them to high pasture? Oh, and one more thing: Bring as many people as you can.” Our friend in the village where we are...

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