The long way home on the Tergiversate Road to the Waffle House.

It could be a straight shot.

It could have been laced.

It could have been straight-laced.

But it wasn’t.

It was laced, sloppily and carelessly.

It could have been straight up awesome.

If the truth wasn’t busting out at the seam…..

Love is a funny thing and it can be shown in more ways than one. Destined to reveal itself and show up in the face of its long and winding road of disturbances and daily difficulties. Its many joys, too!

Take the high road?

The roadblocks that mysteriously appear along with the orange cones and un-mixed concrete re-direct important focus in a series of at-times, insidious delay tactics. Up or down the road of motivations and self-centered intentions. What may rule the order of the day is no concrete answers and the constant expanded delay from the Waffle House on the road to the Hard Knocks Cafe.

A lie has speed but the truth has endurance. What this says about the highways and by ways of our cross the country treks and balances? That a lie has speed and the truth has endurance.

What happens when and if the road less traveled looks a little bumpy and unkempt? Come upon a fork in the road? Perhaps the path is an even less tidier passageway of lies and fabricated stories. All of the sudden, or may be not suddenly, the long and winding road winds itself up in hopelessly stupid ways. Stupidity creeps in with a bed bug-brigade-force of never ending, “I don’t cares.”

The cats believe the dogs should eat the bugs. Yeah, Right?I don’t think so. My way or the highway? Not exactly. This way or that way makes no difference. I simply want everything, “My way.” At your expense.

Continue on the road of Elude Avenue. For some it works well, lane changes and blinkers alert the world, but no one is listening. No one is watching. Why? Hey, if it ain’t broke, why fix it? The rest of the world is moving and capriciousness can move “it” all along the way we prefer. Whether this is good or bad, who knows. Take a short left turn in the hopes of getting out of Dodge……

One wrong turn may leave you and your vehicle straddling the fence and sustaining a big and honking headache. Under the improvident and un-watchful eyes of the curious and nosey passersby, the trek by the wreckage is simply called a gaper’s delay. With a wink and a glance held in the cores of the fickle and whether or not any ounce of caring in the short sighted, reckless world of the neglectful proves anything: The un-parsimonious short sighted gapers neither wish it was they and hope it was not someone they may have known. Gotta get to the Waffle House asap.

The meal ticket? Sorry, it got lost in the mail. The profligates chose their path and now with some regret are second guessing their decisions to bite the hand that feeds it. Bite the hand that fed it, too.

What happens next?

The movers and the shakers simply aspire to move on to the next thing. Forgetting about those left in the dust of the wreckage of someone else’s doing. The next chump holding the chump change. Nothing of real progress ensues, nothing is improved upon, improvisation takes the place of prudence. The road to obtain or “score” the next meal ticket may be paved with good intentions, but while the knives are being sharpened, the cats are still clawing away at whatever meat may be left hanging from the bones of the tried and true.

Competition is repulsiveness personified.

As one comes upon a road less traveled, one notices (hopefully and woefully) to think seriously before turning on a dime—or turning on a friend. Because the next turn on the next street—up the road—used to be called Excess Boulevard. There is a big dark sign hanging over the old one indicative of new construction underway. I heard murmurs the newly planned is to be named “Rip-Roaring-Road.” (3R’s for short) For now as one drives along the old road, they may find the prodigal son, or to be fair, the 2025-equity-pushed- daughter, now inclusively sitting aside the road on her bum eating something looking oddly similar to a giant bug. Yummy. With a sad look on her face of knowingness that the lavish days of old are gone and she had better get to some hen pecking— like yesterday.

The gluttonous days of old? Gone. Like the half eaten last cookie.

Gone.

Gotta give ‘em credit where credit is due. The immoderate tried to take over. They tried to take over with their stingy and tight-fisted-sneaky-snatching-and-stealing any which way and loose on the slow boat and cheap way to China. But the bed bug brigade knew better how to place themselves in the path of victory instead of being eaten alive by the nemesis down the road up the road, round the corner, next door, across the street. Thrifty is as thrifty does.

What happened next?

The profilgators took off done the seemingly vast expanse of the opportunity and road it into oblivion. Onward down, yes, down Dissolute Street, they lost any sense of ration or rationality and went into straight out cat-attack mode. Libertine and Listerine both came to the fork in the road at the same time. One went left, the other west right. The voluptuary could not maintain impulse any longer. The enticement was too great a competitor from his weak mindedness.

Debauchee and others knew what was to come. And didn’t care.The prudent prude kept on trying to fight back. It was a long, and very long and winding road of mishaps and mistakes. In the end, was it worth it?

The good news.

The prude got there in one piece. The other? Still searching for the Waffle House. The current climate precipitated that the outcome was not gonna be “pretty.” Nonetheless, the derelict and their dereliction of duties kept the honest seekers at bay. One can only been privy to the truth when the truth does not have devil-may-care attitude of the gapers’ and their ongoing delays. In a life well lived, one can decipher between as much as you are sold as well as as much as your are told.

Volatility is best left to the ones who know that what they are doing is for the long and winding road to expanse into the opportunity for all to have an “on ramp” to the next best and well lived life.

No room for fickle on the new roads of justice and light.

There is smoothness and aplomb in the steadfast of the truth.

Right or Left?

Righty or Lefty?

When you get to the fork in the road.

Take it.