Noah

“Its gotta be 110° I figure” I thought to myself as a took a swig from my Marlboro thermos sitting atop a split level ranch house. Roofing is a brutal job, done in the hot of summer days out here in Colorado. At 42 I have done a lotta jobs, but roofing is one thing I’ve stuck with over these years. I try not to think about the future too much, but it seems as hazy as a humid day now more than ever. What ever happened to the working man? Seems nowadays everybody’s gotta have the biggest hacienda on the block and be drivin some fancy foreign auto. Nope, not for me. Ford’s my truck, Coors my beer, and Marlboro my smokes. That “Salt of the Earth” type those Rolling Stones used to get on about, those boys are a dying breed. It was about ten years ago I got this thermos. Sent in about 40 packs of Reds for it, cost me six bucks to ship. I’ve since quit smoking. Doc tells me its bad for the lungs. Bullshit. I figure, a man like myself doesn’t ask for much in this life. I just want a place to hang my hat, a break for a smoke, and nice prairie to watch the sunset fall on that western sky. Life seems to make a lot more sense at that pace, sunrise and sunset. I suppose I’ve got a lot more years to live, a lot more suns to watch fall. But, its a mad mad world out there. Ain’t no making sense of it.
The sun tucked behind a fluffy white cloud, offering the day’s first gift of shade. “Well boys, lets get back to work”, I shouted to the guys taking a siesta under a tree. And to you, “Remember to keep on, keepin on”.