Vacation Drive

After a long day, and a delayed trip into Fort Lauderdale, I got on the road about 10:40 or so tonight... for the 180+ mile trip to Key West.

I'm going down here because a friend of mine is getting married tomorrow on the beach. I've never been to Key West -- which is a little shocking to me. It's a quick trip; I am going home on Friday. So I splurged and rented a Mustang convertible.

After five minutes of trying to get used to driving such a radically different vehicle than I normally push down the highway, I opened it up on the Florida Turnpike, with the top down and the radio turned up so all I could hear was music. No pop. No rap. No country -- just classic rock... LOUD... and it was a joyous few hours down.

I thought, but not too much. I sang, but no one cared. The wind was blowing in the hairs in back and on the side (and did the aerodynamic thing over the pitiful ones on top of my head), and the moon and I raced for the horizon. She was beautiful tonight, and was only occasionally joined by a cloud. She danced on the right side for a while, then on the left. Never behind me, I only chased her a couple times.

The drive was a vacation all in itself. There was no deadline, no one expecting me. I knew my destination and the surprises to be found were the roads, the accoutrement along the way and it was the best analogy for my life. I could have been mad, or sad, or just devoid of emotion for the drive. I might have been justified in doing or feeling lots of things during those three hours, but I did what God intended: I just was. I smiled at the little things, a song I hadn't heard in a while, or the occasional memory or thought that ran through my mind. I called Drew's cell phone -- not because he would answer it (hell, he probably doesn't know where it is and the battery is dead), but to just hear his absolutely hilarious voice: "Hi, this is Drew..."

The humid air rushed beside me on the Seven Mile Bridge (which at 115, did not take that long) and I passed by folks paving or those driving south on US 1 and knew everyone had a story, and a reason for being there tonight.

When I crossed the last bridge on to Key West, I smiled. Not the joy of reaching my destination, nor the idea that I could get some sleep. I just relished in the fact that I had gotten the most restful few minutes, a relaxation through the journey that I didn't expect when I dreadfully got into the car 180 minutes earlier. I pulled into the little parking lot and checked into my bungalow and chatted with the bride to be for a few minutes, while I got my stuff in.

Then I closed the door, and saw the moon still racing ahead of me. She beat me to the horizon.