GOD BLESS AMERICA

it ain't every day you strike gold. sometimes you chase and sometimes you follow. in this case we were following the american dream; at least what's left of it. we came in search of cold beer and relaxation. what we got was more than we had bargained for. we hitched a ride on the suicide express straight out of new york on a friday night. we arrived at our destination around 2am. Middleborough Massachusetts is the sticks. there is no reason to pass through such a miserable destination unless you absolutely have to. the bus ride left me feeling a little bit crooked. we stole a few Millers from the old fridge and parked ourselves on the porch watching moths gather by the overhead light. it didn't take much to put me to sleep, and we awoke the next morning shortly after sun had risen. it had all the makings of being a beautiful day. rich golden sun was shining high in the sky. as kids, we used to hold our breath while we drove over the Bourne bridge, but now i can only remember the story my father had told me when i was younger about the black kid from arlington high school who had killed himself by jumping off of the bridge. the next few days consisted of less than glamorous events like chug a lug with beer and who can cut himself the most on the barnacles. the first night the Callaghan family descended on our party like vultures after a fresh kill. The next morning the remains looked like a town that had just been burned to the ground. the smoke was rising slowly from the ashes and our only ticket to a clear mind was to head to the beach. we were joined by our trusty companion, mr. smokey mcsullivan, who had just that morning arrived to spend a day in paradise. we were soon up to our neck with cold north atlantic sea water, and boy was it something else. there was a sudden feeling that fell upon me, and instead of shouting "eureka!" the only words that could escape from my mouth were "i think we've just found gold"