Well, at least I have a good excuse this time. Traveling.
At the moment I am in a hotel near Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta. No, I am not between flights. Nor am I in Atlanta per se. As odd as it sounds, I am driving to Fort Lauderdale for a conference.
Long story, but one step along the way is spending the night here. And I thought, as long as there is wussy but free wifi I should post something. And hey, it has been a week.
Long distance driving allows a fellow to dwell on some things.
Like how people moan and groan about the cost of gas but still drive like crazy. I figured out that just going 65 instead of 70 improve my mileage by 10% but adds less than 10% to my time on the road. So I did it. You would have thought I was a rock in the road as cars and trucks zoomed by. But I suspect many of these folks are waxing irate at the cost of gasoline. Some of them also supersize their value meals, including a giant diet coke.
But what made me think the hardest today was about my apparently primal my sense of personal outrage about certain things.
Last night I wanted something that was not fast food for dinner, perhaps a glass of wine as well. The desk clerk in Louisville directed me up the road a few miles to a strip with ‘casual dining places’ nothing remarkable, all chains, but nothing on a plastic tray or ordered from a counter.
Every one of the places was jammed full. Parking lots were full, people lolled about outside. I was forced to think the hideous thought of Arby’s, which in this case included a grimy interior marked with water damage. I was livid, almost psychopathic with frustration, growling through gritted teeth about how after eight hours drive there should be at least someplace on a Wednesday night I could go without having to scour the whole metro area. My sense of being deprived of a just thing was almost infantile in its intensity and righteousness.
Something else it going on here, meaning something more what happened last night. In the car today I caught echoes of childhood injustices, abandonment, losses and shames, that all came out like the wriggly snakes from Pandora’s box. Through utterly mundane doors our transcendently powerful demons come through. And what a mess they make.