On the Road

Today is the 50th anniversary of the publishing of ON THE ROAD by Jack Kerouac. Some of you may have heard of this book or even read it. Some of you may have not. I have.

In jazz-influenced prose, Kerouac recounts the adventures of Dean Moriarty and Sal Paradise (in reality his friend Neal Cassidy and himself) as they criss-cross a now gone America in search of life's adventure. The writing of the actual book goes that one night, Kerouac taped together a large roll of paper - measuring 120-feet - fed it into his typewriter, turned on an all-night jazz station and started typing away in a stream of non-stop consciousness. 3-weeks later, he had his first draft of ON THE ROAD. With the lyrical style of the book, the glory of life on the road and a 3-week writing process, the book has become required reading for all aspiring poets, rock stars, bohemians, etc. And in college, I was all of the above or at least thought I was.

The book was in simple verse but carried such a passion and excitement that I have never encountered in any book. For me, it played into my new-found love of jazz (and music in general), my desire to be on an exciting road trip that was plaguing my restless heart and most of all, just being part of a new adventure each and every day.

It's been over 10 years since I have read the book, but it still holds a special place in my heart. I am no longer an aspiring anything - I am who I am and that is who I want to be. At the time though, there was a crazy sense of freedom that the characters had and I wanted. I sometimes lived vicariously (and still do) through ON THE ROAD and his many other books. All written in a jazz-style prose and describing life off the beaten path.