Every time I hear this song, it takes me back to central Illinois, somewhere around one in the morning around Halloween. It's a ridiculous bit of nostalgia now from a 20-year later point of view. But then, the bus nearly silent, resting my head on the cold window, looking out at nothing but black and the occasional set of car lights, my Walkman plugged into my ears, my brain full of the perceived trauma and angst that is high school life, this song made me feel, just a little bit, what it must be like to live on the road, wishing I had a home to go to. Thankfully, my journey was always short, and I really did have a home to go to.
Now I'm older, and this song stirs up different kinds of trauma. Deaths of loved ones, pain of betrayal, loss of trust, even sons and daughters of others who made a sacrifice I will never be willing to make...for an ideal.
Mark Knopfler should get a guitar throne in Heaven when his time comes. That man can lay on the heavy shit if you give him the chance.
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