The Cedarville Line

Southbound on the Cedarville Line,
My Texas home is on my mind.
I’ve only got four States to go,
It’s a long, long way from Ohio.

Indianapolis goes flying by,
Someone behind me starts to cry.
I’m not the only one alone,
But at least (at last) I’m heading home.

The Land of Lincoln’s just a blur,
I turn around to look at her.
Her crying stopped a few miles back,
Now, it’s just the clicking of the track.

St Louis and the engines needed fuel.
The dining car refilled the gruel.
I grabbed another cup of joe,
Just a few more hours left to go.

Oklahoma, we just blew right past.
Next is Texas, home at last.
Cross the border to the Lone Star State.
Hurry now, let’s not be late.

Made it home on the Cedarville Line.
In fact, we made it right on time.
Texas underfoot at last.
Northbound before the summer’s passed.

Plano at Rush Hour

He thinks that no-one will complain,
As he exits from the far left lane.

Kill me.
Kill me now.

She is like a pig in clover,
As she slides her three lanes over.

Kill me.
Kill me now.

He thinks he may have seen a cop.
So, let’s have all on Central stop.

Kill me.
Kill me now.

Some of the smartest people alive,
But none of them know how to drive.

Kill me.
Kill me now.

Eastbound 

Sailing back to Europe,
Losing an hour almost every day.
This is what causes the ugky American.
We’re sleep deprived.

Still, I’d rather take two weeks
And be a bit sleep deprived,
Than take ten hours or so,
And be jet-lagged.

On a ship,
You have a cabin.
On a plane,
You have a seat.

Cabins share walls.
These are sometimes thin.
However, seats share armrests,
And these are much thinner.

Ellie’s Blues

Editor’s Note: Sometimes, even a bluesman visits his family. The joys of grandchildren climbing all over you is generally followed by a rare, short-term but hellish disease.

Ellie’s cold is killing me.
Doo-dah, doo-dah.
Snot as far as I can see.
All the doo-dah day.

Gonna run all night (my nose),
Gonna run all day.
I need some antihistamines.
I need to get away.

The kids’ house is a haz-mat site.
Doo-dah, doo-dah.
Boogers running day and night.
All the doo-dah day.

Gonna run all night (my nose)
Gonna run all day.
I’m back home in Dallas now.
With a blocked airway.

Go West, Young Man

Someone said (a long time ago),
“Go West, Young Man!”
Words of travel wisdom.
The direction of progress, if you can.

The reason you go West
Is simple as can be.
You gain an hour almost every day,
As you sail across the sea.

Sailing East usually means
You’re looking a bit dour
(If you’re somewhat European)
Plus, you lose a freakin’ hour.

Losing an hour a day sucks.
It’s why people fly over the seas.
Planes are not as romantic as ships,
Just yank that Band-Aid off at once, please.

Hotel Coffee

Sacred brown water,
Daily Water of Life,
Why do you taste so strange?

I brewed you so gently,
Just like coffee back home,
Yet your taste has changed.

Maybe it’s the water, 
Fresh from the hotel tap,
Flowing almost brown alone.

Maybe it’s the coffee,
A little single-pot bag.,
From a brand completely unknown.

Still, it’s coffee. My coffee.
It’s enough to start my day.
At last, I can remember my name..

It will get me all the way downstairs.
To cups of restaurant coffee.  
Then, I’ll be back in the game. 

Conditions Deteriorating

Out in the Atlantic,
Rocking with the waves.
Wind is gaining strength.
Time to leave the balcony.

Bit harder to walk around,
As we weave from side to side.
Like sailors of yore,
Hold on somewhere.

I’ve never been in gale-force winds.
Think it’s time to hunker down,
Hoping it will pass.
At least it’s not raining any more.

Now, a truly frightening issue.
With the wind and waves,
The WiFi connection is questionable.
A storm at sea is one thing.
No Facebook is a crisis.