(Seeking the) Batmobile Exit Ramp

The highway crumbles just as it has for the last thirty-plus years or decades or centuries to reveal another pothole amidst a perpetual patch job and a fleeting memory of those halcyon days of yore, same pothole, probably, a fear fucking about in my single-digit brain of whether or not I — when I would at last be able to drive myself down the crumbling highway in the Batmobile (because that would be my car) — would remember how to get to the places we were going, the necessary places, Kmart, I think, but Kmart’s long gone now and, though I did remember how to get there more than once, I never got to drive the Batmobile. Alas.

Earworm: Karen O, “Moon Song.” 

Reading: Walter Isaacson, LEONARDO DA VINCI (at last  – it’s only been on the to-read stack for at least a year.)