I want to get wild, to walk away from a burning car and leave a fireball blooming in the desert sky. Sometimes I want to light up a cigarette in the middle of a crowded movie theater. Just sit there calmly puffing away while they tear me apart. I’m never sure what to do with these impulses, but maybe I’ll figure out how to channel them into something interesting when I get back on the road. In the meantime, I’m working on my night driving soundtrack.
“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.