The trees that were green when I first hit town have now turned golden over night. The mountains are breathtaking. Never have I seen such beauty in natural landscape. Yes, there are the Rockies out west and the Ozarks in Arkansas, but, they do not compare. This is magical. And, untouched.

I drive through small towns on back roads and highways. Looking at feed stores, gas stations with the old pumps, general stores, beautiful libraries, cobble stone streets, I’m taken back in time. That is till I get back to Montpelier where craft beers are all the rage and haute cuisine at the cooking college makes this town seem cosmopolitan. I have just enough money left for a decent meal and a beer. I skip the meal and fall into a dive bar for cheap PBR’s. There I come up with the plan to sell the truck for scrap. See what I can get for it. Then set my sights on New York. I am cold, tired, and hungry. I doubt my actions.

But, like the Mexicans, I’ve left everything behind in search of a new start. My dad was always wanting a new start. Moving from state to state, job to job. From Texas to Tennessee. Tennessee to Indiana. Indiana to Mississippi then Ohio. Always on the move. Seeking out the perfect opportunity; the perfect American dream.

Americans are always looking to better themselves. And, parents want their children to make it, have more in America than they did. Me, I just want to survive.

I sell the pickup for a grand. I’m back in the flush. College loan companies keep calling. I change my number. They keep calling. I’m no different than the rest of America; I hate to pay off my debts. We borrow and borrow in this land of opportunity and rarely do we pay it back. The government never does. Why should we?

These are clearly the thoughts of an insane man. Or, are they? I’ve been hospitalized thirty-two times. Had three suicide attempts. Prescribed countless medications. Been homeless and down on my luck. For now I will take in the golden mountains and consider myself lucky. Like the dollar says, In God we trust.