The Road Diaries

by Kevin Carrel Footer
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Life is a Side Project

Life is a Side Project

We are sacrificed into this world. Not born. We give up something sacred and eternal when we come here, something excruciating to lose. Each of us takes a mortal form and with it the certainty of death. (And along the way there are all those human passions...

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Let the Magic Begin Again

Let the Magic Begin Again

It is Carnaval and out from the neighborhoods of Buenos Aires stream broken-down buses carrying murga troupes to outdoor stages around the city. The murgueros criss-cross the city during the night, spilling out of their buses to sing the songs of their neighborhood...

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The Tango Singer on the Sidewalk

The Tango Singer on the Sidewalk

Cucuza Castiello singing with El Cachivache Quinteto during Carnaval. Feb 2017 ithin tango there is the enduring image of Carlos Gardel standing on the sidewalk singing to his fans. He would leave the theater and his fans would follow. They would...

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Like Swimming Through Night and Day

The pool where we swam belonged to Camille Durney, an older woman who lived with her ex-husband. The story was that they had once been married, he had left and years later, long after the divorce, he had asked to come back. And she had acquiesced. He was a sour sort...

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The Man Who Bought Me Records

The albums that I listened to in the night had come to me from Bill Bartley, a grammar school teacher who had taken a special interest in my education. I was in his class when I was ten years old but our friendship continued for years after that. I began by helping...

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Debussy Saves the Night

(an excerpt from “Count None But Sunny Hours”) School dances were torture for someone like me who had a vivid imagination and the desire to punch above his weight. From all the books I had read, I aspired to be a dashing – or at least tortured – person. However, the...

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Dennis Goes to the Moon

by Kevin Carrel Footer Dennis is going to the moon. He asked me if I wanted to come along and though I have signed up for most of his adventures, I’m sitting this one out. He’s got the crash helmet and the air supply ready. He is still working on propulsion but...

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The Chapel in the Signal Box

I chanced upon this signal box behind a truckstop in Kingman, Arizona where we spent the night. I woke early and walked between the trucks as the sun came up over the desert. Truckers in overalls emerged groggy from their cabs, each carrying a wide-mouth thermos...

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Beyond the West

After the West begins the Beyond, a place of inscrutable intentions and cross-purposes that blow you off-course like the gusts over Altamont Pass, where contraptions of precarious beauty born of human hubris float like effigies on the once-pristine hills now stained...

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Truckstops of the Sublime

There are truckstops of such sublime, searing beauty. I took this picture from a patch of dirt off to the side. This is the overflow lot where a few diesel trucks had parked to get their statutory rest, away from the noise of the semis downshifting from freeway speed...

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