i've been crossing the corpus christi bridge for 31 years. my grandma reminded me of the time when we knifed peanut butter on wonder bread and fed it to gluttonous bay gulls. granddad and uncle j'b's ashes remain in First Methodist Church on shoreline drive where Jesus reaches out over the waters to calm the wind and storm. I got real sick once, in one of those cruise boats. never been able to hold my shrimp well on ocean legs. i've ordered 100 whata burger jr.'s from the drive-thu window of that orange and white stripped a-framed building, with my grandfather at the wheel. 8 years ago i drove 1200 miles with a girl to introduce to her to south texas and uncles and aunts and grandparents. we did hand stands in the brown sand out behind the Sand Piper where the san dunes build shifting mounds in the wind and the seaweed and tar hang out. out where my mom, 28 years earlier was learning to surf and my dad was learning of her. back miles, when they were young and electric, before highways were paved and muscular dystrophy prematurely stole breath. all the buildings remain the same, just everything else material and non has changed.
"these roads don't move, your the one who moves."
j kerouac
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