In 1969 I was coming of age. The son of a long-haul truck driver, wanderlust was in my blood. It was at that time NBC launched the TV series, "Then Came Bronson," a show that captured my imagination and flamed the fire of my vagabond spirit.
Back in those days, before the advent of cable, we could get only three TV stations at our house, one from a nearby town and two in a city further away. Two of them were NBC affiliates.
I never did figure out why it worked out this way, but the station in the nearby town would play an episode of Bronson at one particular hour on Sunday night, and the NBC station in the city would play a different episode the next hour.
Not only that, the one station was playing what would be the next week's episode on the other station. So, not only did I get two hours of the show every Sunday night, but I got to watch each one twice!
The show only lasted two seasons, but its impact was imprinted on my heart and mind forever. From time to time, I still hear the song that closed each episode, "Long, Lonesome Highway," playing in my head.
All this has bearing on why I struck out on my own. The need to travel undiscovered territory is still very much alive. Unlike Bronson, I have a pretty firm idea of where I'd like to end up, but one never knows where the journey might lead. As my brother said the other day, "Sometimes you have to be who you are."
And, let me say, if that same vagabond spirit is rising up in you, well, "Hang in there."
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