Like an idiot, I am about to embark on my semi-annual 7,000-mile road trip to visit my three daughters and their families scattered across multiple states.
Because apparently flying across the country in cramped aluminum tubes while paying $14 for stale trail mix was not irritating enough, I decided driving thousands of miles would be a better option.
Nothing says “relaxing retirement” quite like sitting behind a steering wheel for days at a time while every GPS app cheerfully announces:
“Traffic delay ahead.”
“Police reported ahead.”
“Road construction ahead.”
“Faster route available.”
“Accident reported ahead.”
I make this ridiculous journey several times every year just to keep myself properly irritated — and broke.
After all, there is nothing better than travel delays, detours, potholes, distracted drivers, mystery road construction and surprise thunderstorms to help an old man maintain peak grumpiness.
Let’s talk about construction zones for a moment. According to my route planner, there are already dozens of them waiting for me.
Apparently every state in America looked at the exact same calendar and decided:
“You know what would be fun? Let’s tear up every major highway all at once.”
Nothing brightens a road trip quite like driving 17 miles through orange barrels while a sign warns workers are present even though nobody has been there since Easter.
Then there are the gas stations.
Somehow every convenience store now has exactly one employee trying to run the register, stock shelves, clean bathrooms and solve international conflicts all at the same time.
By the time I finally pay for my coffee, beef jerky and antacid tablets, I’ve aged enough to qualify for additional Medicare benefits.
And hotels? The websites always show sparkling photos of beautiful rooms overlooking scenic mountains.
What I usually get is a room facing a dumpster with air conditioning that sounds like a helicopter preparing for takeoff.
The complimentary breakfast always includes eggs with the consistency of drywall paste and coffee strong enough to remove rust from a trailer hitch.
Of course, the real purpose of this trip is visiting family, especially my new granddaughter in Texas and grandson in Illinois. Despite all my complaining, I actually enjoy seeing my daughters and grandkids.
I just don’t enjoy getting there.
Besides, grandchildren have magical powers. They can make you smile one minute and completely exhaust you the next.
You walk into the house thinking:
“I’ll sit quietly, relax and have a nice chat with my daughter..”
Then, five minutes later, I’m playing tea party, fixing Wi-Fi passwords, assembling furniture with missing screws and trying to figure out why a stuffed unicorn suddenly needs emergency surgery.
Still, these trips matter.
As much as I grumble about traffic, weather and construction zones, spending time with family reminds me there are some things worth the aggravation.
Even if the aggravation comes with toll roads, back pain and gas prices that require a small bank loan.
So while I’m wandering America’s highways trying to avoid orange barrels and overpriced convenience stores, I figured I’d start posting blog updates here.
There may be days when I can’t record a video because I’m stuck in traffic behind somebody hauling a boat sideways through a mountain pass during a thunderstorm.
But rest assured, no matter where I am, something will always be frosting my flakes.
Stay tuned!