Man has a compulsion to document himself. It is a safe bet that even before the first drawings appeared on the walls of ancient cave dwellings, songs and stories were in place to celebrate heroes, remember significant events and relive emotions and passions. The songs and stories of our collective existence are artifacts of life and living just as the buildings we built, the tools we used or anything else ultimately left behind. (Click here to read the full document)
Streets of
I took the road less traveled as I often do when I am in that neck of the woods, exiting westbound I-40 near Ash Fork, AZ in favor of a nostalgic journey on old Route 66 – the “Mother Road” as John Steinbeck called it in his novel, “The Grapes of Wrath”. My favorite vantage point for viewing Route 66 is the saddle of my trusty Harley-Davidson, but the comforts of the Dodge Magnum had their advantages that chilly October day. A Buck Owens song came on the stereo and life was good. (Click here to read the full document)