Sunday evening, I read the last few pages of Blue Highways. You can’t go home again. I enjoyed my 3rd reading, but it wasn’t the same as the first couple of times that I read it (in the early 1990s and in 2008). Of course, the book is the same – I have changed.
The book details the author’s 1978 roadtrip on America’s blue highways – the routes seldom traveled in the age of the interstate. Reading it again, I had the feeling that it was a middle-aged man’s lament, a mid-life crisis. The author is angry about his unemployment and he complains about people who have made different choices – those who have material wealth that he lacks.
I still like the book – I’d give it 8 out of 10 – but it just wasn’t the same as the first two times that I read it.