Road trips

Alright, alright. I admit it. I love road trips.

The long hours in a car, the infrequent stops, the country side lazily rolling by, the sun moving from morning to evening. I love it.

Not only do they serve as a handy metaphor, but they also provide an excuse for leisure and for work. When else can you snooze for hours on end, waking up in infrequent intervals? When else can you sit and read for hour after hour without feeling like you should be doing something else? When else can you stare out the window and let your mind wander from place to place without limit?

Well, there are probably other times. But still. I love road trips. To me, they're a weird way to put life on hold for a bit. What can you do in a car? Not much. So it's a time to take advantage of the forced rest.

I've had the pleasure of going on several road trips these last few weeks, and I'll admit that I'm probably one of the first ones to fall asleep once the bus starts moving. But there really is nothing like stepping into the strange portal that is the road-trip vehicle, where time is stopped for a while, where you exist in a different plane, only to step off and back into the real world, as if not a single hour had passed.