At its heart, Road to Livingston is a fantasy. It explores how it would really feel if I followed that urge to drive away, and drive far, destination arbitrary. What would be sacrificed? Who would be left behind? …But what would be gained?
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He was there. Available. On any given day, I could have asked him about the time he met Paul McCartney, or the summer he hitchhiked across the country with his friends. Or what it was like to be in the military during Vietnam. I could have asked him about his grandmother and the southern food she used to cook, or his brothers and what they did for fun when they were growing up. I could have asked him why he decided to get rid of his accent, move to New York, and become a radio DJ. How in the world he could eat sardines straight from the can.
He was there. And then he wasn’t.
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