Highway Songs

As you may know, I don't especially enjoy driving. A family friend once expressed surprise at that. "But you're always going somewhere! I thought you loved to drive!" to which I replied, "I drive because I love to go places, not the other way around." It's true; driving is an easy way to get from Point A to Point B. For me it's nothing more than that -- and not always even that. Today I drove my son back to Winter Park after his spring break. He would normally have traveled here in his own car, but since my middle son had gone to visit a few days before Easter, we all had the great idea to have them drive back in the same vehicle and I would take him home when the time came. (He's been up north most of the past week, visiting his dad, oldest brother, and nieces.) Did I feel like spending five-plus hours in the car, driving north on I-95 on the last day of most people's spring break? The answer is no, I did not. But I had promised I would, and the only way that worked out well was to do a round-trip in one day. We got there, dropped off the dog, had lunch, and I was back on the road within an hour of arriving.

The traffic wasn't as bad as I had expected. I think I must have hit it at just the right time. When we were headed toward Orlando (SB on 95), the northbound lanes were a virtual parking lot. I guess everyone going far to get home left early in the day. I loathe driving on I-4 and I-95, but it's usually the quickest path. I may have mentioned that I literally learned to drive on the D.C. Beltway; when I took driver's ed, after a day or two on the closed course, we were driving all over the Maryland side of the Beltway. That's serious driving! But it's still not as bad, in my opinion, as 95. And the worst traffic and driving I have ever encountered is on an offshoot of the Beltway, 270. I'm not sure whether that's a Maryland road or an interstate, but it's a big mess, which brings me to the other part of my story.

Last night at dinner, my son regaled me, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend with a scary tale from the road, one he experienced just last week as he, his oldest brother and his nieces attempted to drive into D.C. to spend the day at the National Zoo. It was mid-morning, so 270 traffic wasn't as bad as it gets, but it's never good. All of a sudden, a car ran into the back of them. My son drives a sturdy car, and the hit wasn't hard enough to do much damage, but it was a hit from behind on the highway. They looked behind them to see the man who had hit them running along the inner guardrail, on the shoulder, dragging his car against the metal as he went. My youngest son said he called the police as they kept honking and trying to make eye contact with the guy so he would stop, but he tried to ignore them. At this point in the story, my son -- who can, as they say, really spin a yarn -- said, "You just couldn't imagine the look on this guy's face. But wait; you don't have to. He finally turned around and I got this picture of him." With great flourish he whipped out his phone and showed us all the shot of the offender. His name is Brent. My son told me his last name, which I would actually include if I remembered it.

Eventually "Brent" pulled off at an exit, and my son followed him. My oldest son is pretty easy-going, but in this regard he is like me: Don't screw with my kids. Plus, at 6'3" or 6'4" and about 230 pounds of mostly muscle, he does not look like someone to fuck with. They ended up having to kind of "guide" Brent off the road while they waited for the police. Brent just apologized over and over; several carloads of officers showed up to search Brent's car, and my son said he (Brent) tried to hand one of them his medical insurance card as proof of car insurance. His car was searched and nothing was found, but the last my guys saw of Brent, he was being handcuffed and placed in the back of one of the police cars. The general consensus among my sons and the cops was that Brent was a pill-head and was pretty messed up. He certainly looks that way in the multiple shots my son took of him.

Unfortunately, this delayed my family's arrival at the zoo, and there were no parking spot in the lot or on the street nearby. They found other things to do downtown, but it wasn't quite the day they had all hoped for. On the upside, no one was hurt, except maybe Brent, but Montgomery County police have a pretty good reputation, so I'm sure he was fine, other than possibly some withdrawal symptoms. The crew also had a chance to visit my ex-husband's mom, and they might not have had time to do that otherwise. Still, the highway --any highway -- is a scary place.