I suppose if you knew that I’d been a long-distance trucker it wouldn’t surprise you to know that I’d rather drive then fly whenever I can. Flying used to be fun—back when there were fewer travelers, when I was in college and could still dash from one gate to another, and when a size 10 still fit the seats. Need I say that none of those things work for me anymore?
Driving, on the other hand, means you can pretty much adjust the seat the way you want. You can make it hotter or cooler. You can take potty breaks without having to wait for hundreds of other people to finish first. Sure, you have to buy snacks and Cokes, but at least you can get snacks. If you’re driving somewhere, you can throw your jacket in the backseat, bring as much luggage as the trunk will hold without being charged, and actually get to see the countryside inside of the tops of clouds. Ever listened to Neil Diamond’s America with headphones on a plane? Compare that to turning up the volume and singing along at the top of your lungs while dancing in the seat. The beat goes so well with the thumps in the road. Sigh. There’s no comparison.
To me, there’s something very relaxing about driving. Of course, it’s easier 
to be relaxed in the west of the U.S. than in the crowded east, but even there I just like having some control over my life with my hands on the wheel. I try not to let people push me. I find a comfortable speed and hang in there. If someone wants to go faster, there’s usually a way to pass. Mores the pity, though, because I’m watching the signs, wondering where the people in all the cars are going, and who lives in that pretty blue house on the right side of the road. Life is good. Oh yeah, and I might spend a passing moment following the contrails of a jet overhead.
Which do you prefer, driving or flying?
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.