It has been said that the dynamics of two people driving in a car are perfect for deep conversation. You are both facing the same direction, which is more conducive to open disclosure, less threatening than facing each other. It is possible in a car to have very few distractions that normally disrupt discourse between two people. On a journey of any distance you have the greatest luxury: time. Time for the talk to meander the way a wild river wanders, rambles and loops. Time for a topic to steep and brew and be set aside before drinking it down.
Some of my best memories are of long car trips we’ve taken.
Our honeymoon was spent driving from Wheaton to the West Coast. As we approached South Dakota my husband became animated, anticipating Reptile Gardens. Please! Why would someone actually pay money to see snakes dripping from trees? My lack of enthusiasm had no dampening effect on Curt. But I was driving and he was sleeping when we cruised through Rapid City right past that repulsive place. A mile down the road I had a throbbing fit of conscience, made a U-ie across the meridian, and drove back to the exit. True love. It is one of the great mysteries of my life that three times I have paid to be a snake spectator.
I was raised in a large family, with a Stop For Gas Only policy. Your bodily needs had to coordinate themselves to the car’s fuel tank. One learned early The Precautionary Pee. “Just try,” Mom would say. I had the good fortune of marrying a man who takes the first exit when the need for a facility is expressed. Whew!
We listen to music, lots of audio books, sermons, seminars and audio magazines. Sometimes I read a book aloud. But the rich moments are when we talk. (Aside: If I had younguns, I’d be one of those mean moms who would restrict the use of personal DVD players. Why? Because they rob you of thinking time. And talking time. Without them the brain has space to stretch.)
I got to thinking of gerunds that come along on road trips:
Road trips have been a great adhesive.
Agree or disagree? What road trips do you remember?
* the cleaned up words, don’t ya know…