p
r
o
m
o
g
r
a
p
h
y
writings about
walking around
,
the prom
,
and
moving forward
.
a memory, recently re-emerged from the haze of my subconscious:

imagine, if you will, a fifteen passanger van.
this is not your normal issue van;
it's gone from 10 to 15 passangers
through the addition of an extra seat in the back,
requiring that the entire body be lengthened.
the end of this van hangs so far back from the real axle
that turning puts one in danger of slapping the car next to you from behind,
like that hockey-playing beaver in that cartoon.
this is a van that requires a bus license to drive.

now imagine filling that over-size van
with hyperactive middle and high schoolers
on their way to a day at the water park.

adds to this, the driver, a college student.

now imagine that there are seven of these vans
driving down the highway.


and, lastly,
imagine this:

they are racing each other.



it's a miracle that we didn't cause a wreck,
weaving quickly in and out of the flow of traffic,
going 80 and above, jockeying for position,
streaking past each other
to the excited wail of the children within,
busy making faces at their friends as they pass them by,
holding notebook-paper signs up to the windows,
taunting each other.

it's a wonder that we didn't all get pulled over
by an angry posse of police cruisers.


imagine being young, as so caught up in the moment,
that a fifteen passanger van full of children
seemed like a good entrant in a highway drag race.

moving forward inexplicably,
and much too quickly.

Father, 11/20/00

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