The Pre-Exodus Project

The Pre-Exodus Project

I discovered the other side of recorded music. The side we didn’t talk about in Professor Nordling’s class, and the side that makes recorded music even more challenging, I think, than live music.

Hot Food Makes Me Happy

Hot Food Makes Me Happy

But this is efficient, I tell myself. Hot food requires a stove, and a stove requires money, and I am a sophomore trying to backpack Europe on a budget. Food seemed like the best place to cut corners.

Urban Rednecks

From the OED’s inbred, perverted cousin, Urban Dictionary: Although the idea of an Urban Redneck would at first seem an oxymoron, they do exist, and are actually quite common. There are three kinds of Urban Rednecks.

Quick Stress, Slow Stress

One thing I miss about school is stress. Quick stress. The kind that comes from five deadlines in four hours. Quick stress that keeps you worried at night—Do I know game theory? Should I revise again? Will she curve the test?

Messy Resolutions

My resolutions are bricoleur. They are messy and vibrant and ambitious and mundane. It is a dirty, wrinkled list held together with Scotch tape, because this is the time for it.

Phishers of Men

Say what you will about jam bands and hippies—Phish fans have enthusiasm. More than the music, more than the thrill of seeing famous performers, I liked the concert for its energy.
The End

The End

A Volkswagon Beetle never picked me up. Neither did a Mini Cooper, nor a PT Cruiser, nor a Porsche, Jaguar, Beamer, etc. Ironically, I never rode in a VW van, either.

Rushing to a Wedding

Rushing to a Wedding

I dropped my pack over the barbed wire fence, followed by my sign, and then the sandwich and iced tea my last ride had given me. Dusk had ended half an hour ago, and right now, a spot behind the only tree in sight looked like a good enough place to pitch my tent. The...
The Loneliest Road in America

The Loneliest Road in America

Five hours in bristling Nevada heat. Five hours of drivers whipping past, unsmiling and unwaving. Five hours of suffering on US50, the “Loneliest Road in America.” Half the vehicles that passed me were semi trucks or white work vehicles with emblems on their sides,...
Josh deLacy