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I am typically late, always running a few minutes after deadline. This last trip home took 3 days instead of 1 day, or 2 days later than planned, which makes it the latest I have been in a long time. (We won't even talk about the weeks late arrival several years ago on a trip to visit the Hunt's). If I was young and cocky, I might buy the bumper sticker: "Always late, but worth the wait." (Thank heavens I am neither young OR cocky!)It appears, along with my character trait of always being late, I am also an asphalt gypsy - I love to become one with the road. I have an affinity for asphalt beneath my rolling tires. I have already admitted a penchant to see "dust in the rearview" in earlier posts so this expanded description should not be shocking news to anyone.
I think it's obvious that I am a road trip babe. This seems like a relatively nonevasive, nonaggressive pasttime. I mean, I am not a downhill skier or a go-cart racer, I am a road tripper. I am not a dirt biker, I am an asphalt driver.
I remember when my good friend, Dee Hunt, had to give up winter skiing because her knees were going out. And I also remember a friend leaving his favorite game of tennis behind because of the arthritis in his ankles and elbows. They were not able to put in the long, hard hours of their favorite pasttimes any longer. Age had caught up to them. Aches and pains were winning.
It seems that age and its aches and pains has caught up with me too, but it's a bit embarrassing. I am about to leave my long days of road tripping behind, because of well, because of my behind! I just can't sit that long anymore! I wish it wasn't true, I wish I could sit longer, I wish I was a little behind rather than days or weeks late, and for that matter, I wish I had a little behind (something I was never blessed with).
But seriously. I am not kidding. This is not a joke, as funny as it might seem, I am serious. My ankles swell, my legs hurt, my behind gets sore, my back aches...and all I am doing in sitting and driving and checking my rearview once in a while for dust clouds. If I get tired I rock out to country western or toe tapping blues, and my whole body dances in my seat - on my behind to be exact.
So, my friends may not be able to downhill ski or serve a perfect game, but I can no longer drive for 12 hours. Even with pillows propped behind me and tucked beneath me. I just can't do it. I lose a day of my life everytime I try, maybe two days. One day to drive, one day to recoup.
No more 12 hour road trips for this redhead. Not by myself, anyway. I have to leave the asphalt for awhile, and it's the ass' fault that I do. (Pardon the silly play on words, I couldn't resist). So it's down to short road trips for this ass-fault babe.
Now, if someone wants to come along and help drive, or if you can find me a four hour road trip, I am there! And you never know, I might be on time!
Asphault driving. It's in my blood. Road trippin. Dancin' in and ON my seat. Oh yeah, I love it!
Now I just have to convince my behind.
I think it's obvious that I am a road trip babe. This seems like a relatively nonevasive, nonaggressive pasttime. I mean, I am not a downhill skier or a go-cart racer, I am a road tripper. I am not a dirt biker, I am an asphalt driver.
I remember when my good friend, Dee Hunt, had to give up winter skiing because her knees were going out. And I also remember a friend leaving his favorite game of tennis behind because of the arthritis in his ankles and elbows. They were not able to put in the long, hard hours of their favorite pasttimes any longer. Age had caught up to them. Aches and pains were winning.
It seems that age and its aches and pains has caught up with me too, but it's a bit embarrassing. I am about to leave my long days of road tripping behind, because of well, because of my behind! I just can't sit that long anymore! I wish it wasn't true, I wish I could sit longer, I wish I was a little behind rather than days or weeks late, and for that matter, I wish I had a little behind (something I was never blessed with).
But seriously. I am not kidding. This is not a joke, as funny as it might seem, I am serious. My ankles swell, my legs hurt, my behind gets sore, my back aches...and all I am doing in sitting and driving and checking my rearview once in a while for dust clouds. If I get tired I rock out to country western or toe tapping blues, and my whole body dances in my seat - on my behind to be exact.
So, my friends may not be able to downhill ski or serve a perfect game, but I can no longer drive for 12 hours. Even with pillows propped behind me and tucked beneath me. I just can't do it. I lose a day of my life everytime I try, maybe two days. One day to drive, one day to recoup.
No more 12 hour road trips for this redhead. Not by myself, anyway. I have to leave the asphalt for awhile, and it's the ass' fault that I do. (Pardon the silly play on words, I couldn't resist). So it's down to short road trips for this ass-fault babe.
Now, if someone wants to come along and help drive, or if you can find me a four hour road trip, I am there! And you never know, I might be on time!
Asphault driving. It's in my blood. Road trippin. Dancin' in and ON my seat. Oh yeah, I love it!
Now I just have to convince my behind.
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