Still can’t get The Road outta my head. Been thinking about how me and Goose’s walks are like the man and the boy’s long trek on the road. How these walks are all this drawn out repetition of habit and habituation. And how nothing much ever happens.
And then I think it’s a lot like distance running. How running a marathon is just this long haul, taxing the endurance of your mind and body. And how, after a very short while, the scenery is inconsequential. There is no event other than the movement on the road until it ends.
I can’t help but think that The Road has some instruction for us, some moral to the story that will help us live a better life. Maybe it’s to never put your gun down. Maybe it’s to always keep one eye on the rearview mirror. Maybe it’s to stay out of the rain. Maybe it’s to never, ever show up to a bar-be-cue uninvited.
And I realize it’s unlikely that Cormac McCarthy would write a book in order to preach a moral. But, if he did and if there was, maybe the moral would be that, even in the bleakest of times there is actual goodness around you, you just need to stop being an asshole long enough for it come out.