How often do we really drive when we're driving? During my thankfully short commute this morning, I sort of woke up in the car and tried to remember what it was like when driving was new -- high school driver's ed class, when driving was fresh thing, a separate thing to do, a bodily thing that made me sweat a little and feel my hands on the wheel and how my body angled with the turns. Remember learning? At some point, we got past the mechanics and tried to appear casual about it. After a week or so, we were casual about it, and thus began the quick slide to where driving now gets us in a semi-stupor from one place to another.
So this morning when I woke up in the car, I pictured how 100 years ago, how we got someplace was most definitely an experience. I doubt that many people absently picked their noses while riding in a buggy or on a saddle.
And finally this morning, something about the hint of coolness in the otherwise thick summer air coming through my inch-open car window made me crank it down (ah, yes, a hand crank) and shout "whooooo" at the top of my lungs. Solitary as being alone in the deep woods, at 70 miles an hour on a busy highway.
July 02, 2002 09:20 AM