Monday, February 07, 2005

Baby, can I drive your car?
From my (temporary) window I can see the freeway. I watch the cars zooming by, writing in my mind scenarios of homecoming and evenings of relaxation. Cooking dinner while listening to John Coltrane and talking to your loved one about the day. Solo Thai takeout eaten in front of whatever goodie TiVO caught on your behalf.

Trucks filled with the sounds of Alan Jackson twanging the drivers along their way. Self-important BMW drivers too intent on their cell phones and not intent enough on the traffic.

Moms with kids tucked and buckled safely in, singing “The Wheels on the Bus” for the 17th time this month.

Every one in every car has a story. Someone just got fired. Someone got hired. Someone fell in love today. Someone broke up.

A few lucky drivers have furry passengers licking up their windows breathing down their necks.

Some cars are filled with silence. The calm, relaxed silence so needed at the end of a hectic day. The cold, uncomfortable silence of people who have run out of things to say to each other far too early in life.

Some drivers smile and wish herds of field-stuck cows “good evening,” as they speed along, enjoying the freedom. Others would probably be surprised to learn that there are cows along the side of the freeway.

In the sleepy, waning hour of the workday when I’ve had not enough to do and not nearly enough human interaction, I envy the cars on the road.

Right now, I would like nothing more than to be among them, heading home.

Have a good evening, cows.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey! I'm not "Self-Important"! Besides, I was driving on Laguna Seca... in the rain... trying not to spin the car... again.

Yeah? well you try driving at 90 miles an hour on a wet racetrack, braking heavily into the Andretti hairpin, and throttle steering with a feather's touch so the back end doesn't come around on you, hitting the apex, and getting back on the gas to head towards the scary turn 3.

Fun. More fun than freeways.