The Trip

Lynn is a long distance driver. He loves to drive late into the night. He responds well to short naps. He likes to get where he’s going. We corresponded via text messages when he stopped. In 20° weather it would have been nice if just 1 of the 3 heating systems worked.

Lynn wasn’t comfortable driving local roads so he stayed on the interstates and in truck stops. Until he reached Birmingham, Alabama, the Scranton, PA of the south.

I-20 ran at that time through Birmingham. Not a nice, boulevarded interstate with on and off ramps, but right through Birmingham on the city streets. And just to keep things interesting as new detours were created, the signs for the old detours were left in place. For this type of skill building exercise, it’s best if the husband is left to his own devices. Other than doing the driving myself there was nothing I could have done and learning where the 4 corners of a 22,000 pound 36′ long truck are, and where the off side tires roll can only be acquired through hours spent in the driver’s seat. After 30 years with this man and even through my Asperger’s syndrome view of the world I knew enough not to ask “Didn’t you pay attention to the route the bus driver took?” And after Lynn’s arrival I saved my walk around inspection for the next morning, while Lynn was asleep. I noted and did not mention the high polish to the sidewalls on the curb side tires.

By Art Joly

I am a retired New England toolmaker doing his best to enjoy the last years of his life.

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