I love you, America, you moody awkward braying big-boned teenager of a country. Come here and give me a hug. Here’s your birthday song:
America – Ventura Highway
“Ventura Highway” is a smooth rock song about moving from Nebraska to California, which is a very American thing to do. I post it every year because any song with lyrics that talk about “alligator lizards in the air” deserves at least that much. The “alligator lizards” refer to the clouds in the California sky. One day in 1963, songwriter Dewey Bunnell’s family was driving down the coast from Vandenberg Air Force Base when they had a flat. While his father changed the tire, little Dewey stood by the side of the road, watching the clouds. He noticed a road sign for “Ventura” and here we are today. “Ventura Highway” also may have coined the phrase “purple rain,” which some music critics suggest Prince cribbed twelve years later.
The Ventura Freeway is a stretch of interstate in California that connects Ventura with Pasadena, and it’s one of the most congested highway in the nation.
As Friday night began to roll, he recalled Heraclitus’s warning about ‘night walkers, magicians, priests of Bacchus, and mystery-mongers.’
New Orleans is home to jazz and government neglect and other American traditions.
“A tantalizing 21st Century cross between Let Us Now Praise Famous Men and On the Road, this remarkable and utterly original memoir heralds the arrival of a new and important American voice. The Road to Somewhere will take you places you will not easily forget.”
A man believed his only chance at justice was to take a hostage and march him downtown. An idealistic dancer packed the theater yet the city cast her out. A search for their ghosts continues beneath the city.
You’ve seen her before. She’s the old woman with her eyes closed on the bus, the one who sits alone on a bench for hours. At night she listens to the exhausted air conditioners that sound like the sea, tuning in to the city’s static like an old radio show.
The Former Desk of the First Office of the Bureau of Manufactured History was unveiled at a ceremony on the third of May and continues to appear in unexpected locations throughout Indianapolis.