When I recall the moment last October when Issa and I turned our motorhome, Flo, eastward on Highway 50, to pursue our dream of creating a storytelling podcast among the people and places of America’s great flyover country, it feels like I’m looking way back in history to an era already long gone. Or maybe as if we’ve glitched to an alternate reality that makes looking back like trying to remember an elusive dream.
I suspect you know what I mean. When you lifted a toast last New Year’s Eve, what wishes did you make for the coming year? What secret hopes did you whisper in God’s ear? If you were to do it again today, how much of that vision would still seem relevant — or even possible?
Issa, Elle and I found our way home to Gunnison a couple of weeks ago — one step ahead of checkpoints and lockdowns — but not ahead of the Twilight Zone. It was here waiting for us.
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