Thoughts of a 20-Hour Driver



M and I took a road trip this weekend to see a friend in Texas. We don’t live close to Texas, so as you can imagine there was a lot of driving and not a lot of bathroom breaks. Your driving strategy for these kind of trips starts to include purposefully dehydrating yourself  so as to avoid the need to stop along the way in the middle of the night. It’s very unhealthy, but very invigorating. Invigorating in the kind of caffeine-high why-did-I-grab-this-bag this-is-not-food fueling sort of way.

M doesn’t really buy into the caffeine thing, so he slept more than I did. I spent a lot of hours alone, staring across dark deserts, allowing my eyes to glaze over, and thinking about what it all meant.

And here’s what I came up with.

1. I don’t think parents really mean what they teach their children. In fact, when they talk to children, they aren’t really talking as people. They’re speaking on behalf of a corporation. The corporation of “CHILDREN ARE THE FUTURE.”  There are just things you’re meant to say to them. But, when parents become people again, do they really think that anything’s possible? That it’s never okay to lie? I don’t think so. Why don’t we start teaching children to think in shades of gray sooner?

2. Breaking Bad is a really good show. How do I know when a story is good? If anyone can create an irony and develop it to the point that it makes me want to cry and dwell on it for days, it’s good.

3. I can’t imagine where my life would be if I hadn’t decided, without a doubt, that film was my path in life. I don’t think flexibility would be a good thing for me in this area.

4. Drooling in sleep. I’m glad I’m not asleep right now, I’m not in a drooling mood.

The rest of the many hours on the road were spent with a blank mind.

I can only guess my sleep-deprived subconscious was churning out some real doozies. Because the whole of my trip I spent in sort of a relaxed state of wonderment.

Texans like donuts. Cowboys are real. America is still a source of pride for some. Local aviators are better than internet-bought aviators.

What an awesome trip.

Now I’m going to go sleep for eight years.




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