Straight

Straight. 

Clear. Direct. Unimpeded. True. Normal. Sometimes things just go right. In this case, leaving late for work got me a clear path to Trenton, fast and straight. And I don’t mean a straight line, I mean that nobody got in my way as I drove to work. The straight line in was not a harbinger of the rest of the day, but starting the day off in a good way, with a clear mind, sets the tone for a good day, to settle problems, to find solutions, to make headway in difficult tasks. These are the days that make my 53 mile commute not so bad. And these are the days that turn my not-so-bad commute into a productive day, a work day worth driving to. More straight days mean more work is done well. But even the not-so-straight days can have hints of true, of normal, of direct. And that makes my drive bearable most of the time. Now, if only I could manage my drives on the golf course this way.

Mistake

Yes, mistake. As in, taking the wrong route on the commute home. I normally take Route 29 north out of Trenton. Along the Delaware, through Lambertville, Stockton, then up to Milford and home. Not much traffic once north of Lambertville. Time-consuming-but-easy driving. Occasionally I take Route 31 north, through Pennington, up to Ringoes, then county roads.

Brady was at the puppy play day care in Bloomsbury. I decided to take 31 in case my wife decided to let him stay a little longer, leaving me to pick up the pooch. My wife picked up Brady. I suffered. First, and my cousin’s husband John can appreciate this, I encountered people who do not know how to drive. Just out of Trenton there was the driver in front of me who chose to wait behind a car turning left instead of using the massive amount of space on the right to drive around that car. Then there was the Acura MDX driver who decided that the way to go after the light turned green was the opposite of the jackrabbit start, as he crawled forward, inch-by-inch. Then, after all that, there was the person, afraid I guess, who almost stopped the vehicle while driving through a construction area where the road had one of those big metal plates to cover a hole of some sort – and I am not exaggerating – this car slowed down to the point where almost every car behind it had to stop. But it wasn’t over yet – and I had not yet reached Pennington. The next impediment was a wide-load truck, speeding up 31 at about 25 miles per hour. Even after dumping that truck when I veered onto County Road 579 into Ringoes, I got stuck in a line of cars oh-so-slowly getting along behind a farm vehicle. Once, past that, as much as I tried to make up time by exceeding the speed limit, I was thwarted by other inconsiderate drivers who didn’t care about me or my need to get home and get out of my car.

Next time I think about taking 31, I’m gonna bring my golf clubs and stop at the driving range along the way.

Drive

Drive. Every day I drive. To work. Home. To the grocery store. To the show. My vehicle of choice is a 2013 Subaru Impreza. Hatchback. The Sport Premium trim with narrow sidewall tires, sport-tuned suspension, heated seats, rubber floor mats. Right now, 122,000 miles on the odometer. In a little over four years.

Each day I'll give you a taste of that drive. Or maybe I'll give you something else. Like trailing behind a Sunday-driver during rush hour on a Wednesday; on a two-lane road with no way to pass. Or meeting up at the Lone Eagle Brewery in Flemington on the way home from work. Or, seeing a show at The Stone Pony in Asbury Park. Come back. Check often. Find out what life is like for someone who spends hours and hours each day driving his car, to nowhere, to somewhere, to everywhere.

Cheers.