Day 7 of No Caffeine: self-realization

      I’m Show People. I realize that now. What a fool I was to play The Man’s game. It’s time to hit the road with only the clothes on my back, and a song in my heart. No doubt a scruffy mongrel will trot alongside. The dog can howl accompaniment as I regale the townsfolk with such musical chestnuts as “Oh, Susanna,” “Home on the Range,” and that perennial crowd pleaser, “Jimmy Crack Corn.” The mutt can even play King Edward in my one-man, “Braveheart,” adaptation spectacular. I’ll bet the mayor of every town will hand me the keys to the city after that one.
      Ah, the freedom of the American road calls. Listen! Wherever you hear a crowd applaud, that’s where you’ll find me. Wherever a little soft shoe can buy a man his dinner, that’s where I’ll be. Possibly I’ll also be in your car, stealing your car stereo. Times are hard! No one wants to hear a hobo and his flea-bitten dog sing for spare change. Leap for the purse, Scraps, and it’ll be nuthin’ but frank and beans from here on out. Run! She’ll never catch us. Not in those heels. Not with that walker. Not with her debilitating rheumatoid arthritis.