The date is September 16, 1997. I've been married for 12-1/2 years. My brother is a long haul truck driver.
A long haul truck driver? What could that possibly have to do with anything?
Just imagine what it would be like to drive a truck from Washington to California and then back to Washington... week after week after week after week. I think it'd be lonely. I'd definitely want some good radio or books on tape. And in between I guess my mind would just wander around where-ever it wanted to go. I'm thinking this is what happened to my brother. On September 16, 1997, 12-1/2 years after I got married (he walked me down the aisle) he sat in a truck stop (I imagine he was in a truck stop) in Santa Rosa, California and wrote me this post card:
You can see he emphasized my initials on the address.
But was that enough? Not for my brother. The date is now September 29, 1997 and he writes from Corning, California:
Funny guy, right? Didn't even spell my last name correctly.
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