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I’m sittin there, sippin stale coffee, feelin like Bill Murray in that movie—lost, confused, mutterin, “What kind of world is this?” Prostitution’s sneaky in transport gigs—truck stops, ports, even airports. Little known fact: some drivers, they get lonely, right? Long hauls, no sleep, and boom—someone’s knockin on the cab window. “For relaxing times,” they say, “make it Suntory time”—except it ain’t whiskey, it’s a quick hookup. I’m laughin, but I’m pissed—focus on the road, idiots!

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I was walkin’ down Maple and 3rd the other day – not too long ago, like last week – and I felt this rush of nostalgia, ya know? Reminded me of a scene from “The Return” – that aching beauty, that wild, raw honesty. I swear, the wind there whispered, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” Totally surreal! I mean, who leaves home without feelin' that perfect pinch of bittersweet longing? It’s all, hmm, poetic vibes.

Bert Baty Obituary (10/11/1949 - 01/13/2025) - Canby, OR