The Straight Story Page #3

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... eatin' a hot dog on a stick with an old geezer|that's travellin' on a lawn mower.

My daughter Rose is...

Some people call her|a little bit slow but she's not.

She's got a mind|like a bear trap for facts.

She keeps everything|organised around the house.

She was a real good mom.| She had four kids.

One night, somebody else|was watchin' the kids and there was a fire.

Her second boy|got burned real bad.

Rose had nothin'|to do with it but, ah...

..on account of the way Rose is,|the State figured she

wasn't competent to take care of them kids | and they took 'em all away from her.

There isn't a day goes by that|she don't pine for them kids.

When my kids were real little,|I used to play a game with 'em.

I'd give each one of 'em a stick and| - one for each one of 'em -

then I'd say ''you break that.''|'Course they could, real easy.

Then I'd say ''tie them sticks in|a bundle and try to break that''.

'Course they couldn't.

Then I'd say ''that bundle - that's family.''

Why don't you sleep|in the trailer?

This chair's just fine|for me tonight.

No, I'll be fine|sleepin' out here.

Lookin' at the stars|helps me think.

Thank you.

What that?

Thanks.

What the hell?

- Doin' good.

Hey, Irene.

-You don't think about gettin' old when you're young.|-You shouldn't.

Must be something good|about gettin' old.

Well, I can't imagine anything|good about being blind and lame| at the same time, but...

still at my age, I've seen about all|that life has to dish out.

I know to separate the wheat from the chaff|and let the small stuff fall away.

Let's go, man.

So, ah...what's the worst part|about being old, Alvin?

The worst part of being old is|rememberin' when you was young.

Can I help you, lady?

No, you can't help me.|No one can help me.

I've tried driving with my lights on,|I've tried sounding my horn! I scream,

I roll the window down and bang on the door|and play Public Enemy real loud!

I've prayed to St Francis|of Assisi, St Christopher too! What the heck!

I've tried everything and still|every week I hit at least one deer!

I have hit 13 deer in seven|weeks driving down this road!

And I HAVE to drive|down this road

every day, 40 miles to work and back.

I HAVE to drive to work|and I HAVE to drive home!

Where do they come from?

Oh...he's dead.

And I LOVE deer.

Well, they sure picked the right|place to practise a burn on.

That Rumelthanger place|was an eyesore.

What do you suppose...?

Is that a lawn mower?

Mister, you OK?

Jeez, mister, you're lucky|she didn't roll on you.

I guess the belt broke.

I wouldn't be surprised. You don't have|brakes on that trailer, right?

I worked for John Deere for 30 years, and I can tell|you shouldn't be hauling a rig behind a mower.

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