“Why don’t you turn on the radio to find out what we’re dealing with here?”We were at mile marker 27 near St. Joseph in southwest Michigan, on the back half of a long drive home from visiting my family for the weekend.
I was focused on staying in the two relatively snow-free tire tracks in front of me – all that remained of the typically zippy three lanes available along that stretch of I-94.
To make it even more interesting, there were inexplicably large chunks of ice – like huge white boulders – stuck to the road every few feet. I’m guessing the snowplow dude responsible for this piece of highway spent a little too much time at the Tokyo Spa last night (“Open ‘til 2 a.m.”) and slept in.
Jim flipped on WGN and that’s when we heard: “90/94 east of Grant Street is a complete mess. There’s a 17-car pile up on the eastbound Indiana toll road and from the Indiana-Michigan border to Gary it is extremely hazardous with white out conditions. You should avoid driving through that area if at all possible because it is extremely dangerous.”
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Hedy, it sounds really dangerous. Why wasn’t Jim driving?
Because then we would’ve ended up in the ditch for sure.
Not because he’s a bad driver. Not at all.
It’s because I’m a bad back seat driver.
After nearly nine years of marital bliss, we know that with me screaming “SLOW DOWN! Are you TRYING to KILL us?” every few minutes, we wouldn’t get too far before Jim’s poor brain would explode out through his eyes and all over the dash, leaving Gromit and me to fend for ourselves as the Honda spins horribly out of control, becomes airborne and lands in a snow bank.
It’s just safer and more peaceful for both of us with me behind the wheel.
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When I’m not on a treacherous stretch of highway trying to get home with two creatures I might possibly be responsible for killing in the car, I love, love, love driving in the snow.
There’s something about the tires crunching quietly through the deep snow. And the scary fun feeling that you might might might slip outta control at any moment.
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“There goes another one.”
There’d be an unmistakable white plume of snow shooting 20 feet up in the air, then break lights ahead. Another stupid driver lands in the ditch.
Oddly enough, most of the 20+ vehicles we saw stuck in the deep snow alongside the road were ginormous SUVs.
One might conclude something about the sad, stranded folks who drive these types of hey-look-at-me-I’m-a-tough-guy-going-to-the-grocery store trucks.
But I’m feeling nice today, so I won’t.
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Long car rides tend to make me snippy, even when I’m driving.
I think it’s mostly because highway driving is one of life’s great equalizers: Stupid people are easier to spot and so much more annoying.
That’s the other reason why I enjoy driving in the snow so much. The stupid people are extremely easy to spot and completely out of the way.
In the ditch.
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I am listening to: KT Tunstall - Other Side of the World
I am reading: Do As I Say (Not As I Do): Profiles in Liberal Hypocrisy by Peter Schweizer
And I am: Really tired
2 comments:
I grew up in Michigan; thus, I know of what you speak. Years ago, a cousin and I were driving from my parents' house, near Cadillac, back to Ann Arbor, about a three hour drive. We arrived twelve hours after we started. During the drive it snowed about ten inches. My cousin drove the whole way for reasons similar to yours.
Gone from Michigan for decades, I make a point of not visiting family during Winter.
I shoulda figured you're from Michigan. We're all so goddamn nice. :)
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