Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The sleeping bag, and no clothes

In my post on musical instruments MR made a comment about Jim Croce's sleeping bag. He was referring to the sleeping bag I have that actually was given to me by a guy who played drums in Jim's band. I can't remember his name now, but I did check it out once, and it seemed legit. The story goes...

Back in the late '70's early 80's I worked in a little gas station along Interstate 80 in Illinois (exit 45 to be exact). One morning I came to work and someone was sleeping in back of the station. This wasn't all that uncommon and I just assumed he had either been stranded, or he was hitchiking. Sure enough, he finally woke up, and he was hitchiking across America. I don't know if it was because I usually had my guitar at work with me or what, but we struck up a conversation, and he actually ended up spending the entire day there with me at the gas station (I think I was working like 8 am to 10 pm). He claimed to be Jim Croce's drummer, and I don't really remember what all we did otherwise. Anyway, the next morning when I came to work, he'd left his sleeping bag rolled up like this in front of the door, along with some other "paraphenalia," and a note thanking me for my hospitality. I think he even left me his home address and such in case I was ever in ... I think it was California.

So that's the story on the sleeping bag we keep in the trunk of our car. We have used it many times at concerts and picnics and things. This is actually the trunk of the Buick Century. We don't have anything in the trunk of the new car yet. I guess I need to get to work on that.


In other exciting news... last night we went to Kohls. Jane needed some new pants and we had a coupon. While there I looked at clothes on the clearance rack. Ugh. It's always so discouraging, because I seem to fall between sizes. Large shirts are too big, and mediums can be a bit snug in certain spots. And I tried on some jeans - because I only have one pair that don't have holes in the knees and I don't like that particular pair very much. The 34x30's almost fall off of me, but the 32's are too tight. It doesn't help that I don't like to wear a belt, and they need to fit well without tucking my shirt in (because I hate tucking my shirt in), but they need to be loose enough for those times when I have to tuck a shirt in. So... I didn't get anything. Jane found some pants. She's so much easier to please than me. That probably goes without saying.

Yep.

3 comments:

Whisky Prajer said...

That's a cool story about the sleeping bag.

MR said...

You should hear the one about the ZZ Top sleeping bag.

(that song ROCKS!)

dan h. said...

There are many cool stories from my time at the gas station. If I could only write like you, Darrell, I would write a book about them. But I can't.

Unless, of course, I can find my ZZ Top sleeping bag. Then...