The Road is My Destination.

This post is best understood after listing to “Long White Line” by Sturgill Simpson. Long White Line

A few months ago I ripped up my shallow roots in Arizona to move to the majestic Pacific Northwest; Seattle specifically.

It was a rough move. I was on an island in Arizona having only moved there 8 months prior. It was an abrupt and arduous task with my only glimmer of hope was having a few close work friends help move a few heavy loads down and the selfless assistance of an Oklahomie (Oklahoma Homie) who flew out to Phoenix, loaded me up and took to the road with me.

The Road

What a beautiful thing. In many ways, this network of asphalt and paint is what literally holds this nation together. Moving product, services, families, friends, and dreams. Dreams of a new life, new friends, and old hopes. It’s the road that carries this for us all. That is what makes the road way more important than the destination.

Phoenix to Seattle along the Pacific Coast Highway. This was one HELL of a road trip. A desert exodus into the mist of crashing waves along the California coast.  Rolling on true north through tall trees and winding ways we made our way to Ballard- Seattle, Washington.

Again, the destination isn’t as important and the road or the ride. I believe this trip was a symbiotic healing process. I was wound tight (who are we kidding, I always am,) stressed and scared. My Oklahomie deals with a lot of anxiety any worry. Like me, he finds himself often finds it hard to leave his apartment.

It all started with a text

I mentioned to some friends in a group chat that I had fooled my employer once again to get a promotion and was granted relocation to Seattle. My Oklahomie mentioned if I took the PCH up to Seattle he would join me. I held him to it.

It was a rough start but we made it out of Phoenix. Instantly I could feel the moving stress melt away. It was now time for the worry of starting over to bubble up. The mixture of feeling had become too much so I decided to let my friend take control- of the car. This is a rarity. But it served as the most meaningful action I had taken in a long time.

What did I do? I slept. Strung out and wasted I began to refuel. It was also nice that when I was awake I had the PCH as my gallery. It was nice letting go. I feel this was also something special for my friend. He was driving the PCH! Not very many Midwesterners can say they have done this. So it was special. He values these special moments amongst America’s splendor. This was the break we both needed.

We got to chatting about how crazy our friendship and our shared journey started. Two friends who met at a soccer bar; one an ADHD extrovert and the other a calm and collected introvert.

My version: (at the bar) I need players for my soccer team. There is an athletic dude, he is a ginger but F’it I’ll see if he is open to joining my team.

His version (my sarcasm): Man, I love soccer but my game isn’t on at home. It’s on at the bar, but there are people at the bar. Also, who drinks at 8am on a Sunday morning?! This drunk guy just came up and hugged and asked me to join his soccer team. I agreed, but I don’t know if it was to get him off me or because I was sold on the opportunity.

Here we are 4 years after the bar “hook up” and we are driving up the PCH. No way that could have been predicted. Through ups and downs for both of us and our mutual friends, we remain close. Up for adventures or a few beers.

I love that about life. we find friends or passengers along for the ride. A lot of them jump off at their stop, very few linger and refuse to get out. These ones are the types I set out for. They make MY trip worth it.

I am a passenger in life. Like an old dog, I want as many rides as I can get. I want feeling, adventure and a story to tell. I know it all won’t be sunshine on my shoulders (may he rest in peace) but that is the point. I love to drive and I am learning to be a great co-pilot. It isn’t easy but it is rewarding to see others take the wheel.

I am thankful for my drivers, and the passengers I pick along my way. I have learned so much from these people and I hope I can return the favor.

In reference to the featured photo, this is Walter. Walter is dying. His human; my friend has made sure he has had a great ride in life as well as continues to take him for rides.

I can only hope my human and pet friends know how much I love our rides as well.

He isn’t gone yet, so I am sure you will see more of Walter.

Find a friend, find a tune, and go for a road trip.



Life Lessons from Peter Iredale

Lot’s of things come and go; often leaving something behind or imprinting on their surroundings. My hope is to comment about the trivial and underrated historical artifacts and surroundings. As I travel, I write. As I write, I hope I find out what I am writing about.

The aim of Drifter.Digital is personal but also open. I will share my thoughts, my biases and do as I please. I will put myself in the public eye; brave like a minnow in a vast school of fish and share my two cents! Hear my roar! Yes, in my reality, fish roar. I would also like to point out, I write as if I am speaking; telling a story and I don’t care much for the rules of grammar. So feel free to not point out my mistakes. Just go with it.

So what’s with the ship wreck photo? Why such a bad angle? Where is the artistic quality? BACK OFF! I shot this with my phone! I am an artist, the world is my canvass, and that is the remains of a Liverpool ship named, Peter Iredale.

The ship’s story really isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. I would assume we could fantasize about a wealthy narcissistic (he did name his ship after himself) aristocrat, but this is about me coming up with a unique parallel to my life.

So, we start well after October 25, 1906 when the ship ran ashore just south of the Columbia River Channel, near Astoria, Oregon. In fact, I was just at this site over the fourth of July holiday. This was my first time meeting Peter’s bones and hearing his story from its beaching to invasion. Wait…

Invasion? America was invaded? No, but the Japanese did fire multiple explosive rounds from their hidden subs off the coast in June 1942. The ship was in the line of fire, however, we must give credit to British engineering, the ship didn’t see a scratch. Then again, it was a pile of bones.

Why were the Japanese picking a fight with mainland America? Were they just provoking us to reveal our battle stations? We may never know. The US Navy didn’t respond.

The entrance to the Columbia River is a very important water way, and to my astonishment (never really thought of it) the US Navy had built wartime infrastructure on American soil to protect it!

Now we know that the US did have bases near the explosions, and they decided not to respond. Was it to keep their locations a secret for a larger attack? Was it to keep the war from beginning on American soil? Due to the Freedom of Information Act we will never know. Just kidding, i didn’t research any further than a few Google clicks.

So why didn’t they respond? What would I have done? Too often we see stimuli (internet or “real life”) pop up and wait for us humans to react like it is assumed that we HAVE to react. What if we don’t? Why do we have to? As a young, know it all, male, I would say I wouldn’t react, and then immediately react. Then question my grit and self discipline on repeat.

The US Navy had countless reasons to react. I think its very telling to hear the story of young prepared soldiers not reacting to an explosive instigation. The fact this is sometimes we need to take a step back. Get a larger perspective. Do we care that they are shelling us? Yes. Does blindly responding with no plan or true understanding of the situation make us feel good? Yes, but now I’m starting to question this. It feels good to defend myself, but now I’m focusing on a small battle instead of a war. What have I missed or lost while losing this focus?

For me, an ADHD “lifer” I struggle with removing myself from instant stimuli and the agitation of responses; I know who I am and how I should respond but now I must figure out the power of my responses or lack there of.

For the close. I won’t be concluding many if any articles myself. I think that is for you, the reader to do. I laid out the canvas and paints. Provided the backdrop of Peter Iredale as your muse.

Any gamer friends out there? I often get

Any gamer friends out there?

I often get the chance to play games with my customers and coworkers. I can only think of one other way to really get to know someone quicker than playing a game or two with them.

What’s your favorite game and why?

Mine’s Killer Queen Arcade
Check out their colloboration with LiquidBitGames:

Bonus: Check out the latest Video Game industry Trends for 2019

The Monster from Rattlesnake Ledge!

Just kidding! This is Snek a friendly forest creature that I have claimed as my pet squirrel! As you can see I have named him Snek in honor of the creature I was nervous about seeing.

That is it. Just a squirrel.

So the next time I change the subject on you or lose track of my storyline just go with it and remember Snek!