E-mail message from a friend whose daughters left town yesterday:
"When there is more time will tell you about the truck driver that got out -- hit my daughter's side window with his hand and told her to let him get in front of her to get gas as he was working and now evacuating. Scared her so much, since it was 9:30 PM, that I talked with her for 30 minutes. That was my second choice -- first was to get to the Teague exit and shoot the s. o. b."
4 comments:
I would have helped you bury the body.
Maybe I'm just too damn gloomy, but I keep flashing back to the opening narration of THE ROAD WARRIOR:
To understand who he was, you have to go back to another time. When the world was powered by the black fuel. And the desert sprouted great cities of pipe and steel. Gone now, swept away. For reasons long forgotten, two mighty warrior tribes went to war and touched off a blaze which engulfed them all. Without fuel they were nothing. They built a house of straw. The thundering machines sputtered and stopped. Their leaders talked and talked and talked. But nothing could stem the avalanche. Their world crumbled. The cities exploded. A whirlwind of looting, a firestorm of fear. Men began to feed on men.
On the roads it was a white line nightmare. Only those mobile enough to scavenge, brutal enough to pillage would survive. The gangs took over the highways, ready to wage war for a tank of juice. And in this maelstrom of decay, ordinary men were battered and smashed....
Great stuff, JD. I'll bet you have that memorized.
Well, I have seen the movie abiout fifty times.It's one of my favorites.
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