Taking secrets to Kansas / 28 September 2012
Airport: there is something rather strange about going through check-in especially with assistants waiting for me. Wonderful really, a first: leaving able bodied passengers standing their gobs wide open while watching me walk through to the boarding gate.
I'd never flown through clouds; even as far back as childhood I thought they were something mystical, wrapped around some kind of secret; a light moveable secret. Those were my thoughts lying in Astley Bridge park in the hot summer of '58.
Now years later U.S. Airways are carrying those secrets over with me to Kansas. Strange. Yes of course but when dreams are turning into reality anything could happen.
I was flying to Kansas via Philadelphia where I had a four hours wait and where the flight assistants where wonderful in making sure I was on the right flight.
Fred Whitehead is waiting for me at the airport. We shook hands and talked about my journey. I climbed into his Chevy truck and I automatically grab the steering wheel: for a split second i want to call the police: someone had stolen my steering wheel. Of course I feel silly; worst still when I try to press the brakes at our first junction.
We talked of an American, English Professor, John Crawford, who suggested Fred should read my work. After twelve months of emailing each other Fred invited/ funding everything for me to read my latest collection: Listening To The Dark ( Ken Clay: Penniless Press) in Albuquerque and everywhere in between, where he thought suitable and could organise.