Ne’er-do-well bums out for joy rides.
This book has moments of inspired writing, but the story was pretty lame. Sal meets various guys who want to be writers, like Carlos and Dean. These fellows can not stop philosophizing, but they never get anywhere with all the talk. That is ok though, they are lost souls trying to find meaning the best they can.
Dean is from Denver, comes to New York to learn from Sal how to be a writer. He does not get very far with becoming a writer, but he meets people who encourage him, so he keeps on trying. He has to go back to Denver, so Sal says he will travel across to see him there, and then on to San Francisco, to see other folks. It takes him a couple of tries to get on the way, but he does get there, and parties it up. After a couple of weeks there he heads off to San Fran. He gets a job with his friend there, but he does not like it, and by the end of summer he busing it to Los Angeles, where he meets a woman who takes him back up to Salinas, where he bums around for a while, works some, and decides to head back to New York. And so it goes…
These guys just keep on being drunk and disorderly, having sex wherever, whenever they can. The girls are just there as sex objects, they do not impinge on the antics of the fellows very much. The women are shunted aside whenever they get in the way. They act like juvenile delinquents partying it up, stealing and trashing cars willy-nilly, being drunk and disorderly, ect.
It is to be noted that the word ‘beat’ as they use it is an abbreviation of ‘Beatitude’ or ‘Beatific’ –
Definition of beatitude
- 1a : a state of utmost bliss
- b Christianity —used as a title for a primate especially of an Eastern church
- 2Christianity : any of the declarations made in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5:3–11) beginning in the Authorized Version “Blessed are
Published by David Brockert
Joe was born in xxxx, Arizona on xxxx xx 1955 to David Joseph and Alta Mary Brockert. He joined xxxxxx. His early life was spent in various houses in Globe, Miami, Claypool and Superior, Arizona. He remembered starting school in second grade in Superior and went there until he finished seventh grade.
They made a move to the Midwest that summer. His parents tried to get work in Minnesota that summer, to no avail, came to Wisconsin and finally found something. Joe went to eight grade in Evansville, Wisconsin. He went to Holy Name Seminary in Madison, Wisconsin for his Junior year of high school. Joe did not make the grade (literally & figuratively) at the seminary, so he went back to graduate from Evansville. He started college at Edgewood in Madison, but without a focus , he did not get very far towards a degree. He did get an Associate of Arts degree from Madison Area Technical College in 1978 for Accounting just to prove he could get a degree of some sort. He never did use it to any extent.
Joe worked as a paperboy in Superior and, some, in Evansville. He did some work study jobs in college, but really started to work at the donut shop on Regent Street, Donuts Unlimited. He worked there, off and on, for many years. He spent a summer at Edgewood Summer Theatre near Baraboo, tried to find a job doing bookkeeping after graduation but fell back to working seasonal at Blaney Farms (seed corn). He worked at the donut shop until 1993. He left to work at Triggs Bakery, Quarra Stone and Colonial Bakery. He has worked at Colonial Bakery since 1994.
Joe met the love of his life in a coffee shop near MATC, where they attended classes and they never really left the coffee shop. Joe was married on 17 May 1980 xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Joe lived a contented, relaxed life. He did not do much but learn, work, raise a daughter and support his family. He did not attract a lot of attention. He did learn to live for the day. He felt that the key to happiness was to remember to stop and smell the roses, or to look at the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, Mary, or to just go for a walks with her. He was humble enough to know that his writing would be of interest to very few, mostly those related to him, obviously, so he never tried too hard to get his rambling thoughts recorded.
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