edelweiss pirate

route 70, New Mexico

today, around 11am (that hopeful time of day), I found myself barreling down a New Mexico two lane highway. the road was sun-burnt black and stretched endlessly ahead of and behind me. to either side was a sea of dusty desert, populated by seen-it-all cactuses and rough weeds. on the distance on both sides were mellow mountains, too far away to be defined beyond their outlines. it’s the desert road of the American mythology.

by this time I’d been driving for a few hours and had given up on the radio. so, I put on the most logical piece for desert cruising: the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde. just as Isolde was willing herself to death, I came up on an old Cadillac, all boxy corners, from the 80’s. it was traveling a good 15 miles per hour slower than I, and my oh my was that beast prancing down this desert highway.

I pulled past as the song swooped to its climax, the old German soprano giving it her all and against this swelling soundtrack I looked over and saw this: old man, leather face grimacing against the wind from his open window, white bared teeth, white cowboy hat, hunched shoulders, flexed arms, hands gripping the steering wheel like he was driving a tank through Germany in WWII, a primary colored puffer jacket from the 80’s zipped tight against his chest, driving that Caddy to the very moon and the stars it seemed. I have never seen anything like him or the car or the moment before in my life.

magic.