We got back last night from a blitz of a trip to Miami, having driven down there, stayed two fast nights, and then driven back (the latter by way of Sarosota, which made the return a twelve-hour marathon). So I’m still reeling a little.*
This caps off a crazy month-long period of household repairs and retrofitting and entertaining guests and… And we’re not quite out of the woods yet — another trip (the annual New Orleans jaunt) comes up in a few weeks. But for now I also look forward to getting back into the swing of things (such as it is, and such as they are) online. Expect a few sputters and coughs from the old engine here while I engage in virile (albeit 100% metaphorical) activities like replacing the plugs and points, cleaning out the carburetor, adjusting the timing chain, flushing the radiator, wiping axle grease from my hands, cussing at the old alternator (which hasn’t worked reliably since I bought the goddam thing at eBay), swilling Budweiser while framed in the sunset light streaming in from the mouth of the garage, and wolf-whistling female passersby.
I’ve got a lot — a lot — of catching up to do at your places, too.
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* After each of the last few times we’ve taken long road trips, I’ve spent the next day or so unconsciously certain that some sort of heavy machinery is operating, without ceasing, in our neighborhood, down here at the end of our quiet suburban cul-de-sac, if not actually in our house. The floors and walls vibrate, you know; they thrum with industry. And then I realize that the vibrations are those of a six-cylinder rental car with good steel-belted tires, running for hours over unbroken stretches of limited-access-highway pavement. I previously wrote about the so-called Hroom Effect™ about three years ago.
The Querulous Squirrel says
I used to love long blitz car drives, especially driving my kids cross-country and driving different pieces of that by renting cars at airports. Some of my best life’s memories were these long meandering drives. Lately, I’ve avoided long trips entirely since given family issues, most would involve driving to NJ, my least favorite drive in the world.
John says
That’s a perfect expression of the “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” notion. I wonder if the road trips to NJ would be more appealing if you didn’t actually drive TO family members’ homes, or even got out of the car — but simply drove around the block on arrival and headed back to your own home?
Miriam Forster says
Heehee, I love how your engine metaphor took a sharp left into intense description. Good luck on your next trip!
John says
What a great observation. I was oblivious to it, myself (although I had a sense of getting carried away, ha). Thank you!
Jayne says
Ok, now I’m going to have to come back to read all about the Hroom Effect. But I’ll do that when I also have time to read Friday’s post–which will be when the house is quiet, of course. There is always thrumming here, and vacations or road trips or anything that is remotely related to “taking a vacation” are the worst/noisiest. Especially the long drives. Vroom, vroom!
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. ;)
Miami. Last time I was down there it was with the girls and on a boat. Sometime BC. I think we may have gotten into a wee bit of trouble, too.
(Great photo, btw.)
((I trust you have the correct tools. ;)))
John says
Please don’t take this wrong, but I can totally picture you getting into a wee bit of trouble with some girlfriends and a boat — especially BC. (Well, there’s not really a right way to take it then, is there? Ha!)
marta says
Taking a vacation…people still take those?
John says
Oh yes. And I know you may think it sounds like fantasy, but you WILL take one again!
(Part of the problem with living in Austin may in fact be that there are so many reasons to stay there year-round. :))
cynth says
I can so see a certain older guy standing next to a red truck, smokin’, swearin’ and sweatin’ as he dried his hands on his old handkerchief. Thanks for the visuals and the small smile in the middle of a busy afternoon.
John says
Yeah — I got sort of carried away there, muddling memory with imagination. (I can’t see a handkerchief, though; I can see only a red-cloth rag.) Always happy to trigger smiles!
whaddayamean says
me too!! so much catching up!! when i opened this post, there were TWELVE unread posts of yours in my reader. weeps. i am so far behind! i think my internet life is dying. :(
new orleans, though. that sounds awesome.
John says
I always feel a little guilty about the New Orleans trip, because while we’re there The Missus must attend a work-related conference while I have the days to do with as I will. (We’ve never been to N.O. together — or me, at all — otherwise.) Usually this just consists of walking, walking, walking, and then stopping into a bar somewhere for a few hours — maybe to read, maybe to free-associate on paper. So, not exactly a unique New Orleans experience.
i think my internet life is dying. Ha! Or not — it’s actually sort of a tragedy. If you can figure out how to maintain, say, a 2008-level Internet time commitment, while holding a job in which you’re about twice as busy now as you were then, PLEASE SHARE THE SECRET.