Key to the Highway

Someone very close to me is moving to Portland, Oregon.

Which causes me to wonder, "Will I end up living there?"

Mebbe. Mebbe not. Wouldn't surprise me though.

I've got the key to the highway;
I'm billed out and I got to go...

It's the only burg on the west coast I haven't lived in; Seattle, San Francisco, L.A. (short time there), Anchortown -- they've all had me as a resident at one time or another. Portland has generally been a place I passed through to get to somewhere else, although there've been times when it was a destination.

I'm going to leave here runnin'
'Cause walkin's most too slow.

Back in '63 and '64 I ran the highway between the Bay Area and Portland a lot. A female was responsible for that, of course.

When the moon comes over the mountain
I'll be on my way...

In those days my mode of transportation, by necessity, was a Greyhound bus. I still remember all the bleak little bus stations along the way, and buying coffee out of vending machines in places like Medford at one in the morning. Ah, those were the days -- not.

I'm gonna run this highway
Until the break of day.

Now my highway running days are just about over. No reason to go to California these days -- it's always on fire. I'll say farewell to the Golden State, being as how it's not so golden any more.

Good bye; fare-thee-well;
It's time for me to roam,
'Cause you haven't done one thing here
But drive a good man from his home.

As we get older, the highway gets shorter.

Photo: Big Bill Broonzy, photographer unknown.