Little Black Backpack

Since I am not as smart as AZ, I can not discuss medical issues or politics. I have a dumbed down blog today about my life.

Stroke 9 is lame. As with any lame band, they had a catchy song. Anyone who knows how many albums that they have is more lame, they might have a real problem. This is a story about driving in a car with one of those people.

Last weekend I did a marathon of a drive. No, I didn't drive to California as I have before, or Seattle, or anywhere truly far away.

No, I drove to Mount Pleasant to pick up Brooke, back to Lansing to pick up a pillow and blanket to sleep with that Emily ended up using, and to the Gate. I briefly wrote about the experiences when we arrived to the gate. This is the prequel. (by the way, I believe that these actions stifle the argument for my abrasive personality).

It is a beautiful sunny day, which is rare in Michigan, especially this time of year. I should have known something was up on the first half of our 556 mile excursion.

We are heading south on 127 toward Lansing. We are having a leisurely and somewhat whimsical conversation. That's kind of the way I roll. We are making darn good time, which is the point of a long Michigan trip. All of a sudden, a blue Trailblazer starts veering into my lane. I thought to myself that he was just tired and crossing the line a little. Immediately, I realized that he intended to be in my lane, with me in it. I feel bad because I do not remember if someone was behind me. Since I was cruising at a pretty good pace, I doubt there was. I slammed on my breaks and layed on the horn, which is a rare feat. I got up on the rear end of his car and saw him looking at me. I gave him the finger. He waived at me with such a dainty little wave that was so ridiculous that it would have been comical under different circumstances. I proceeded to swear at him, out loud, as my body tensed up and a sat more upright, ready to completely express my dislike for this guy’s actions. Finally, he got over into the right lane. I pulled up beside him and swore at him, pointing and flailing, like a textbook road rage case.

I feel bad, because at first, I don’t think he realized what he did. When I initially let him know, with the honk of a horn, he acted like I was the one who did something wrong. That just doesn’t fly in my book.

As all of the profanity had left my mouth, he backed off in the right lane. I kept my speed in the left lane. He came up to a car in the right lane and needed to make a pass. I slowed down. In what is generally regarded as a dick move, this guy deserved it. I finally passed the car and so did he. He passed me on the right and we exchanged words and gestures again. I sped up and tailed him for a bit. Soon, we were flying down 127 at speeds in excess of 100 mph. I was right on him. Then, as I looked over at Brooke and saw the general fear of the situation on her face, I decided I would use a little sensibility and slow down. Before I slowed at all, the Trailblazer was gone. I looked at my speedometer and it read 103. He must have been going 115 or 120 to pull away that fast.

I resumed my normal speed, calming myself down and then sharing a laugh about the situation. Then, in no time, we were in Lansing. When I exited, I got all worked up again, as we saw a Trailblazer in the left lane, stopped at the Saginaw light. It wasn’t the same one, thank goodness. I proceeded to pick up my pillow and blanket, apparently so, for Emily.

The whimsical and random conversation started back up until we stopped in Milford. I wanted Starbucks as the whole day up to that point was exhausting. We walked in to the good graces of an angelic creature vacuuming the floor. Ok, maybe I exaggerate a little, who knew. Regardless she was the cutest and sexiest girl I have ever seen vacuuming. I suppose her bubbly personality that was a bit over the top is what topped it off for me. Brooke was sitting there waiting for me to make a comment. I held off as long as possible, but even before I got my delicious coffee drink, it was out there. We laughed, and continued on, high tailing it to Andy’s house.

I thought of stopping by Milford on the way back, just to see if it was love or not. (ha ha). I decided against it, due to the treacherous weather on the way back.

That is my story, and I am sticking to it.

(Sorry, no pictures today)