A great pilgrimage to see Woody Guthrie’s birthplace, in Okemah, OK.
We had to sing a lot in the car. A lot. Luckily my significant other has a beautiful singing voice. I’ve got a good memory for lyrics, except when I don’t (and mis-hear, make things up, or think Jimi Hendrix is saying: Excuse me while I kiss this guy…)
And speaking of memorials, pilgrimage, and meaning–isn’t the above an unusual donor brick? It supports Guthrie’s little memorial in downtown Okemah.
I hope their love lasted as long as the brick.