that's mrs. mediocrity to you

It’s easier to go forward than in reverse.

You can’t always stay between the lines.

Manners are extremely important.

Enjoy the journey, and the view.

Getting lost isn’t such a bad thing.

There are times when it’s okay to go fast and
times when it’s important to slow down.

Everything is more fun when there’s music.

You never know what’s around the next curve.

There are signs everywhere.

Being first isn’t the most important thing.

You won’t get very far on empty.

It’s a good idea to let others know where you’re going,
even when you think they aren’t looking.

The road less traveled has a lot more bumps.

We all have our blind spots.

There will always be hills and valleys.

Don’t block other people’s paths.

So much depends on the weather.

Sometimes you have to let your hair down,
and let it blow wildly in the wind.

in a car is all it takes to clear my mind. four hours of nothing to do but drive and drive down this endless asphalt ribbon. my hardest decision will be which music to listen to next. four hours of singing, loud, uninhibited singing, along with joni mitchell, bob dylan, cowboy junkies, counting crows, alison krauss. four hours of not caring what people passing me think as i belt out all my favorites, feet tapping, head bobbing, mouth wide.

four hours of trucks and cars and vans and jeeps and buses
and motorcycles, and one helicopter being pulled by a camper.
never saw that before. of watching for hawks and spotting two herons and counting crows as i sing a counting crows song and
then smiling to myself about that. of eating m&m’s and drinking
a coke, which I only ever do on long drives.

four hours not distracted by internet or television or telephones or anyone else’s voice. four hours of looking ahead, not behind, not up, not down, not at everything that needs to be done. four straight hours of straight hard thinking.

four hours of sky and horizon, trees and wire, whizzing by so fast you don’t see it. but it sits there, in your mind’s eye.

four hours of enjoying the ride.

four hours twice within 28.

eight hours in a car, with my thoughts and my music.

and none of those thoughts were of time.