Toward a New Dawn

An Epic Road Trip and Fantastical Semi-MemoirLiving life is nothing that any moron or bettercouldn't accomplish, even without setting one's mind to it. The trickis to do something with that life. Or live several at once, so thatone could at least be a success in one of them.Herbert, having endured his mid-life crisis withall the aplomb possibly available to him, now was set on making a newlife for himself. This is his book.Such a book has parallels with our own. That islife for you - it sneaks up on you and drops some odd segue or linkinto some other person's scene and then just nips away, as if it wasmainlining pixie dust or some super-quantum Dune drug. Blue eyes andall.You see, Herbertdoeslive more than onelife at once. Shackled to the mundane world of the Midwest warehouselaborer, he yet lives in worlds of extreme science, wild fantasyenvironments and incredibly sensuous surroundings. For Herbert readsbooks, surfs the Internet and has an overactive imagination.But let's meet our hero...- - - -Excerpt:Driving down Interstate 40after leaving LAwas a bit of a non-scene. Desert and highway didn't change that muchafter Barstow. Modern highways are built to be safe and wide inAmerica. Deserts were designed by God to be hostile and unforgivingfor any who broke down out there. Highways had the occasionalroad-side phone and also Patrol coming along. Deserts had cacti, dustand not much else.Herbert. That's me. There's about 5 or 6variations of that name, but only one I would answer to. Comes frombeing raised in a family of 10. You had to pick an identity and stickwith it, or drown in the uncertain melange of other lives around you.This is my life, at least as I recall it. 40+ years old and leavingthe known for the formerly known in order to make some sense of mylife. Not that I was confused. But what I had been doing didn't makesense anymore, so I was now driving from LA, away from thenonsensical, toward the sensible.Barstow itself hadn't changed much since I hadbeen there some 20 years ago. I had gone to Vegas to get married andfound that Barstow was an interesting rest stop. I was the only onewith a license,and so was the elected driver. We took off late afterwork - two couples in one car, both seeking an instant marriage andabbreviated honeymoon on the way back. We had essentially 48 hours topull the whole thing off. So, with the late start and nerves keepingme up the night before, lack of sleep started taking its toll aftermidnight. Pulled over by a trooper, who noticed the car was weaving.So we stopped in Barstow for a couple of hours - they went in and hadsome food, I slept (but first my wife-to-be and I "e;made out"e;in the front seat, just short of having sex - which was forbidden aspart of the Center.A rise in the highway brought my attention back tothe current, swerving the heavy loaded rental truck to stay betweenthe lines. Topping the slight rise, I saw only the black parallelbars of highway stretching again into the darkening desert, the sunbehind me along with a tail wind, pushing me ever home and away fromCenter forever.Center had been something which promised answersto all my many questions about how the universe operated. They saidthat you just had to follow their exact path and keep studying thebooks and lectures of their founder. One day, in an ever-increasingbut gentle gradient, you would know Truth and this hope kept yougoing - along with the required annual celebrations you were requiredto attend where the official PR was read out by executives...