Monday, July 1, 2013


Drive grumpy for almost half of a seven hundred mile trip in a mini-van. The kids, all three, get along the entire time. Your wife does not nag you or practice even one of several in-the-car-habits that usually drive you crazy.

You are angry at the traffic which slows your progress. You want to blame them for the late start, for  causing you to be on the highway during rush hour on a Friday evening. You try to paint yourself, at least to yourself, as an abused long-sufferer.

Dusk falls slowly, pinkening the world, while the kids are singing and laughing. Your eyes detect single deer grazing at intervals along the highway's edge modeling gentleness. The whole thing comes together gradually to unlock you from this old and automatic anger.

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