A Rambling Story in Four Parts

Things I Think About and Remember...

I have a rambling story for you. It's in four parts and ends where it starts, only different. I'm not sure where to begin so I'll jump in where this one did. It started on the Dementiaville Highway...
A friend of mine is a trucker. His name is Wayne and he does some lengthy hauls. I bet he's also intimately familiar with some of the weird twists and turns on many a highway. I imagine he's got a really good GPS system to help him keep America going. That toilet paper doesn't just magically appear on the shelf, though it seems to magically disappear this year!
We met because he's also a dementia care partner and has shared some great stories - stories about rambling all over America in a red rig during a pandemic while he makes time for stops along the way to visit his sister and husband, who are trying to keep safe while dementia progresses in spite of a virus. These aren't easy roads and there is no one precise map, so it makes navigating these highways somewhat tricky. We follow where other trusted tour guides have been, but we remain open to alternative routes. We ride the waves as they roll and trust our GPS and any landmark clues we might recognize. We often drive in circles, sometimes all in the same afternoon!
Anyway, this story is about being a trucker and a rambler. There's quite a bit of rambling in Dementiaville, too, and we often ramble back in time, remembering our roots and those earliest memories as we sail to a certain sunset. We learn to travel the freeways and test the road conditions. We keep emergency supplies on hand. We prepare for whatever may be around the bend. We learn flexibility and hearing the message by linking the pieces of map together. We learn to read the winds and understand the triggers.
We learn to keep on trucking, taking rests when we need. The Dementiaville Highway is no quick sprint. It's a marathon and we're in it for the long haul. We keep on rambling, looking for the most suitable directions. Thank you, Wayne, for being who you are! I wish you and your family the happiest of holidays!
Part of this story is about stories and what they mean. We hear stories as we grow up. I wondered why they call Hank Williams, Jr. 'Bocephus'. The way I hear it is his daddy named him after the Grand Ole Opry comedian Rod Brasfield's ventriloquist dummy. Bocephus also means wild and untamable. I was also curious about the word 'Watasha'. It's a Japanese word meaning 'old number one'. Hank Jr. gave Waylon Jennings that nickname.
This is a rambling story in four parts and it ends where it starts. I couldn't tell this tale without the musical stories from some of country's best musicians. No copyright infringement intended. I don't make money from the videos I create. I'm simply sharing some stories that the world should hear, lest we all forget. I'm suggesting we thank a trucker and deliver kindness wherever we go. It's what is most appreciated in Dementiaville.

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