Content warning: Old, obscure rock lyrics. They put a hot wire to my head'Cos of the things I did and saidAnd made these feelings go awayModel citizen in every way Anger is an energy!Anger is an energy!Anger is an energy!Anger is an energy! —excerpts from Rise by Public Image Ltd I drove to York … Continue reading Anger is an Energy
Driving
Mountain Top
Mountain Top, Pennsylvania, how many times have I driven through this town? When I met Susan, we frequently visited her parents in Sayre, Pennsylvania. Upon retirement, they opened a bed and breakfast in Milford, Pennsylvania. We took annual trips to visit Susan’s brother in Amherst, Massachusetts. Now we head to Vermont to take Sophie to … Continue reading Mountain Top
The Drop Off
“Oh!” "What?" "I think I forgot my shoes." Flashback to twenty-five minutes earlier, Sophie walking out of the house barefoot. Me: “Hey, are your shoes in the car?” Eye roll. We just got back on track. Not from the shoe incident (although we did return home to get her shoes) but from a missed turn. … Continue reading The Drop Off
‘The role of cars during covid-19’ for the people of tomorrow
What did you do during the lockdown? Sophie drives. Almost daily she heads out onto the country roads that surround Gettysburg. She has no destination, no one to see, she just likes motoring down the roads. When I start the car the next morning, the radio blares. On a lucky day, it’s music, but usually … Continue reading ‘The role of cars during covid-19’ for the people of tomorrow
Cutting the Strings
Sophie drove the rental car. I don’t think it’s allowed. I told the agent we have three drivers; he didn’t mention any restrictions. He never asked her age, so I never told. Still, I doubt they want a seventeen-year-old driving their car. She leaves at 5:30, Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Text us when you get there, … Continue reading Cutting the Strings
Jeff’s Travel Disk
I’m not used to driving this car; too much weight, too much muscle. Alternatively, I drive too fast, and then too slow. But I’m always in fast-mode when I blow past a cop. Always hitting the brakes a few seconds too late. How fast is too fast? Seventy-five? Eighty? My stomach drops and my breathing … Continue reading Jeff’s Travel Disk
White Knuckles
My left hand fell asleep. When I was only forty minutes into driving my portion of our return trip from the beach, my hand went numb. I was gripping the wheel too tightly. They call it white knuckles. While growing up, my family annually packed up our station wagon and rented a beach house for … Continue reading White Knuckles
The Other Stuff 