Follow the Lighted Promenade

An open letter from Tyler Brugioni (My mother): I want to thank all those peacefully demonstrating a war they believe is illegal. The world is watching and they need to know that not all Americans feel that this war is just. It is a war of agression, for colonization. Bush told the world that Iraq will soon be ours, and NO ONE can tell him no. He needs no one's permission. I'm sure some people in our nation would be cheering if someone promised to depose Bush, but most of us would fight to the death to keep our country from being occupied by a foreign government - in fact we have, as our history will attest. My thoughts are always with our soldiers and children, siblings and spouses, who are risking their life for their government, both here and in Iraq.

I said goodbye to the car last week. Said goodbye to 8 and a half years, 160,000 miles, the old boy’s been with me awhile. It feels very sad. I played “Prisoners (Of Rock and Roll)” by Neil Young and Crazy Horse to send him off. That’s a happy song. Very loud, volatile, road music. I feel sad. I’ve seen everything in that car. It has come to define me in many ways. It’s known simply as “The Car,” and everyone who sees it knows it’s mine. Neil wrote a song about his first car. I am writing this paean. I drove home from Tippecanoe with Brian when I was 18 and he was 16. There was lightning on the horizon and I was afraid it was going to rain. Jeremy and I listened to the Cub’s game on the way to Ouabache, and the lights of the small towns glowed as if on film. I had my first kiss in that car and my first road trip and my first day of college and my first time seeing the aurora borealis, camped alone near Moose Mountain is Saskatchewan. Further north, on Wakesieu,