The crazy ones…

The crazy ones….

I remember you, you had fond desire for unplanned road trips. You loved the tequila and the lime at noon. You hated hotels and you loved sleeping by the sea in a sleeping bags. You hated rude people and you loved the California fish tacos. I remember you taught me, I was more than a soldier and life was more than us. I became a crazy one with you near.

I remember we tried to drink every beer in a wild night in San Francisco in a early Spring. The San Francisco policemen awoke us-up in the back of my truck in the morning. They laughed at us and pointed at the nearest coffee shop. We became Monterey legends, we suicide boarded the big Winter storms for weeks and the Germans and Japanese people photograph us dancing with the wild sea. Thinking we were the insane folks knowing no fear.

We were the lone people who trusted the Pacific. We were the crazy ones and you taught me. Life is the sea, being bare-ass at Big Sur, free-climbing every mountain near and never allow the walls to become a prison. I left you in the Fall of 1992 and was one of my saddest day, I was being moved to Fort Hood and I remember you told me. I will be here in Big Sur when you need me. You damn soldier follow ordered and will die for men who don ‘t care about you.

When you need to taste some crazy, I will be willing. I never saw her again and now I teach my grandchildren, to be the crazy ones. To dance with the sea, free-climb the mountains and test life. Never allow anyone to tell them, they can’t do something. Better to be the crazy ones than the sleeping folks, who had accepted less. 

Dancing Coyote