Truckin’ Home
I love this sign. I look for it every weekend on the way to the beach. For some reason, the lyrics of “Keep On Truckin'” by the Grateful Dead come to mind–the lobster is truckin’ home, like me going to the beach. I’m sure the song is deep in my memory from the eight million times my sister played the album, “American Beauty.”
“You’re sick of hangin’ around and you’d like to travel;
Get tired of travelin’ and you want to settle down.
I guess they can’t revoke your soul for trying’,
Get out of the door and light out and look all around.
Sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me What a long, strange trip it’s been.
Truckin’, I’m a goin’ home. Whoa whoa baby, back where I belong,
Back home, sit down and patch my bones, and get back truckin’ on.
Hey now get back truckin’ home.”
