On Sunday from 2:10AM to 11:15AM, I logged in over 450 miles of driving. There was some stuff that went on in the middle, but that is unimportant. The important part is what I realized while driving more in 12 hours than I had in the past two years combined.
Between 2AM and 4AM you are guaranteed to hear Cult of Personality, Dead or Alive and pretty much every horrible Journey song ever made. You're also without a doubt going to find a hard rock station that feels it necessary to play three Doors songs in an hour. Don't forget the light rock stations, which truly push the boundaries of "rock." Candle in the Wind, Dust in the Wind and probably some other song about wind, which wanted to make me drive off the road.
You also realize that there are a lot of fucking McDonald's in this world. You also realize that thinking about those creepy Australian Outback movies are not as funny when you're in the middle of nowhere and you see someone picking up a tire on the side of the road at 2AM.
Granola bars are the worst snack idea ever if you don't have a gallon of liquid to wash them down. I literally felt as if I was in one of those saltine whistle challenges. I think I might have passed out from Roscoe to Deposit, NY from lack of air.
Road work at night is fine unless there are a shit ton of reflective cones and lights. I went through one area and I'm pretty sure I came out with epilepsy. Fog is also scary as fuck when you know that if you crash, nobody is driving by for at least 15 minutes. I saw exactly 11 cars, on both sides of the road, within the first hour and half of my trip. This wrong turn didn't have Eliza Dushku either.
You think about a lot of stuff and dammit if every mistake you've ever made in your life doesn't pop up, just as you're driving over a body of water. Maybe it's a sign of cleansing or maybe it's just a hint. Who knows, but the feng shui in the Honda Odyssey was leading me towards the latter.
At least once, if you're a guy, you get horny. Maybe it's memories of driving with a horny girlfriend or maybe it's memories of bus trips in sixth grade when every bump got you aroused. Who knows, I'm a guy and don't we think about sex every seven seconds or minutes or years? Who knows, I think my libido jumped ship in the 90's. I just wish there was a Viagra that made females want to talk all night.
There is something about having to pee five miles from your destination and pain from holding it in feeling like you'll die when you reach the 2 mile mark. Needless to say I didn't make it.
After a while, whether it be delusion or boredom, you become the greatest singer of all-time. You hit all the high notes and somehow you transform yourself into Barry White, Freddie Mercury and the girl from Lime. There is no note that isn't in your repertoire, but you know deep down that to roll down the windows would be to invite the onslaught of owls who just want to know, who?
Finally, you realize that there is something about pulling into that spot and knowing you are home that feels so euphoric. When you finally feel at ease and you turn that car off and as it settle, you feel that stress leave your body and it just feels good. Almost like a run or a workout, but just complete relaxation. Realizing that feeling never came from the place you called home is even more eye opening and that will take a while for me to really comprehend. As for now, I'll just think back and realize what a mistake the last ten years was....and I mean all of it.
One hour of driving for each year wasted.
Between 2AM and 4AM you are guaranteed to hear Cult of Personality, Dead or Alive and pretty much every horrible Journey song ever made. You're also without a doubt going to find a hard rock station that feels it necessary to play three Doors songs in an hour. Don't forget the light rock stations, which truly push the boundaries of "rock." Candle in the Wind, Dust in the Wind and probably some other song about wind, which wanted to make me drive off the road.
You also realize that there are a lot of fucking McDonald's in this world. You also realize that thinking about those creepy Australian Outback movies are not as funny when you're in the middle of nowhere and you see someone picking up a tire on the side of the road at 2AM.
Granola bars are the worst snack idea ever if you don't have a gallon of liquid to wash them down. I literally felt as if I was in one of those saltine whistle challenges. I think I might have passed out from Roscoe to Deposit, NY from lack of air.
Road work at night is fine unless there are a shit ton of reflective cones and lights. I went through one area and I'm pretty sure I came out with epilepsy. Fog is also scary as fuck when you know that if you crash, nobody is driving by for at least 15 minutes. I saw exactly 11 cars, on both sides of the road, within the first hour and half of my trip. This wrong turn didn't have Eliza Dushku either.
You think about a lot of stuff and dammit if every mistake you've ever made in your life doesn't pop up, just as you're driving over a body of water. Maybe it's a sign of cleansing or maybe it's just a hint. Who knows, but the feng shui in the Honda Odyssey was leading me towards the latter.
At least once, if you're a guy, you get horny. Maybe it's memories of driving with a horny girlfriend or maybe it's memories of bus trips in sixth grade when every bump got you aroused. Who knows, I'm a guy and don't we think about sex every seven seconds or minutes or years? Who knows, I think my libido jumped ship in the 90's. I just wish there was a Viagra that made females want to talk all night.
There is something about having to pee five miles from your destination and pain from holding it in feeling like you'll die when you reach the 2 mile mark. Needless to say I didn't make it.
After a while, whether it be delusion or boredom, you become the greatest singer of all-time. You hit all the high notes and somehow you transform yourself into Barry White, Freddie Mercury and the girl from Lime. There is no note that isn't in your repertoire, but you know deep down that to roll down the windows would be to invite the onslaught of owls who just want to know, who?
Finally, you realize that there is something about pulling into that spot and knowing you are home that feels so euphoric. When you finally feel at ease and you turn that car off and as it settle, you feel that stress leave your body and it just feels good. Almost like a run or a workout, but just complete relaxation. Realizing that feeling never came from the place you called home is even more eye opening and that will take a while for me to really comprehend. As for now, I'll just think back and realize what a mistake the last ten years was....and I mean all of it.
One hour of driving for each year wasted.
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