driving guilt

i love my car (the old one, i wish it were running) and i love driving it.

all my life my car has represented freedom, escape, adventure.

i can't tell you how many evenings i've gone out and just drove around with no destination, look up some street or road i've never been on, or gone back to someplace i havent been in a long time.

the late summer twilight, the smells of coming fall... all of these sensory baths couple tightly with my motor vehicle.

when i was working the night shift in wilsonville, i'd cruise down I-5 on my way to work with the windows down and the radio up as the heat of the day was just begining to dissipate. the sun lumbering down over the horizon in the west and casting those golden hour golds and oranges into my consciousness.

...and that ribbon of concrete and asphalt running out into the distance, a future laid out there just for the taking. i'd think, "if i stayed on this road, i could be in los angeles by morning. mexico by tomorrow afternoon."

i never did, though.

i'd just pull into the parking lot and watch those other cars go by, roaring off to some other place than i.