|One of the shippiest Scully and Mulder moments ever.|
Summer makes me think of driving. Rather, the joy that driving used to bring.
Now, driving is a frustrating, at times rage inducing, way to get to one place from another in a hurry. Always a hurry. Rush, rush, rush here. Eeeek. Rush, rush, rush there and back to here again while checking apps to find the cheapest gas and then shaking a fist at the pump while the car glug glugs my pay check away.
Driving didn't alway produce indigestion and migraines.
Driving used to be fun.
Right around dusk, with the windows down, rolled down, with the right song on the radio, I'm transmogrified back to a teenager.
The picture in my head is a slow motion movie of years gone by...a car load of kids.
Fighting over control of the radio, which for the record, always goes from driver to co-pilot.
Driving through developments, cul-de-sacs and turning around dead end streets until it was time to go home.
Dropping passengers off, one by one, curfews not location determining drop offs.
Your arm sticking straight out the window, waving up and down with the air current, until the unfortunate bug splatting into your hand, resulting in squees of laughter.
I'm remembering those nights fondly as I'm looking out at the traffic zooming by. Wondering when I should leave to miss most of the bumper to bumper traffic.