In the Words of Willie: On the Road Again

After 10 years of driving over 3 hours a day, 5 days a week, it occurred to me that the car is my secret place. My conservative estimate is that I've spent 6240 hours, or 260 days, in the car on the the way to and from work or customers. And believe me, when I say that is a conservative estimate, I'm not counting the last 8 months that I've commuted to Raleigh and I only factored 4 days of work per week, and no personal driving. I have one friend who says I should have wheels under my feet, and there are times when I should.

How many times have I explained to people that I have a one-way commute 1.5 hours from sleepy little SW Virginia to Greensboro? I'm always met with a look of shock and disbelief, often I'm peppered with questions - "Why?" and "How can you STAND it?" To answer those questions, I have to start from the beginning.

As a child growing up in SW Virginia, my source of excitement was a trip to Roanoke on the weekend. If I was really lucky, my mom and grandmother would take us out to eat at K&W. That's right, think blue hair and walkers, think cafeteria food, and the prune faced ladies asking, "Help you?" in their scratchy smoker voices.

Nannie had a Big Bird yellow 1978 Toyota Corolla that took us there and back with two bottles of hot Pepsi (Nannie always preferred her Pepsi hot and flat) and sweaty legs sticking to the vinyl seats. Those Roanoke trips often included a doctor visit for Pop or Nannie, and if I was good we would stop at K-Mart and I would ride the horses out front and get to pick out a toy. I can still remember riding with the windows down, and the little car humming along at no more than 55mph because it wasn't capable of doing more. That car is still keeping the roads hot after no less than three accidents, all of which involved another car hitting "old yeller." How can you hit a yellow car? How could you not see a yellow car?



Mom finally let go of Nannie's prized car, and sold it to a guy she works with, who promptly cleaned it and put new wheels and tires on her. It's a real sight to see that car still making memories for another family.

So that was how it started, it was in my blood, the love of road trips and the need to see things outside of my little hometown. When it was time to go to college, I wanted a place that was far enough away that I could come home when I wanted, but just far enough that mom and dad wouldn't feel the need to visit. I settled on Greensboro College, which allowed freshmen to have a car on campus. Oh JOY! My first car!

After a lot of searching, my dad wanted me to get a 1989 Pontiac Grand Am, but I wouldn't hear of it because it was an automatic, and I had to have a 5 speed. Guys dig chicks who drive 5 speeds - right? I spotted a blue 1988 Honda Accord that was just what I wanted, well almost what I wanted because it didn't have air conditioning, but I was willing to overlook that. After a lot of convincing by the salesperson that a Honda "would give good service", dad gave in and it was waiting in the driveway when I came home from college orientation. There was only one little, itsy, bitsy problem...I couldn't drive a manual transmission...yet.

And thus began my driving adventures: I went backwards and forwards in the driveway until I was comfortable with the clutch, then through town as I practiced starting on various hills, discovering that I could make it home from my friend Tim's house in less than 10 minutes if I pushed it through all of the turns over 919, that a 88 Accord can do 124mph when it's held wide open, and that wreckless-driving tickets suck.

Some things haven't changed - I still drive a manual transmission, the Honda Accord became an Acura TL, I still like to drive fast, and I still get speeding tickets. The difference is that my driving now serves more of a purpose than getting me from point A to B. Being on the road is my therapy, my alone time, where I sort out my thoughts and make all of my life decisions. Why do I choose to spend 3 hours a day in the car? The answer is simple - it's my outlet and I love it because I can walk through the day's events, enjoy precious memories, and daydream about the future.

Over the last 3 months, I've realized that I'm missing a part of the equation. What good is a thought, memory, or dream if it isn't shared? So somewhere between work and family, I'm going to share the thoughts that come to me in the car. You can expect to read almost anything, from books and music, to random thoughts, and possibly me ranting about other drivers.

Driving Pet Peeve #1: If that's you riding in the "hammer lane", as my dad calls it...get out of the way when you see a car is faster than you.