There was a lot of traffic on the way up, and I found myself grumbling a bit - the freeways are supposed to be wide open, aren't they? Aren't they???? Reality check: Yes, the freeways were wide open when I started making the Kansas City to Minnesota drive, but that was forty years ago. And perhaps, just perhaps, like all the other areas of my life, I am being a bit delusional if I expect things to be as they were forty years ago.
Once I harnessed my irritation, I whiled away a good hour of the drive reflecting on the ways the scenery had and hadn't changed over the years.
The peaceful looking little white Lutheran church, with its simple spire, that has welcomed me to Minnesota on many a winter evening is still there. *whew*
Sadly, the old farmhouse that someone did a great job of painting the first two stories of, before never finishing the job by cleaning up the third story dormers, now has boards over all the windows; a visible sign of the vanishing Iowa family farm.
The quirky gas station and accompanying motel in Boondocks (not an official designation) is lonely and abandoned. Its empty sign frames are decayed and rusting, its traffic has been swallowed by the Flying J which went in on the other side of the freeway about fifteen years ago.
I've reluctantly abandoned my Ankeny coffee/food stop - the quick on-and-off access I used to enjoy has been replaced by clusters of too many cars trying to drive in too little space. Instead, I've started going to a Kum & Go about ten miles up the road, which has a decent selection of bottled caffeine and fresh sandwiches. (I still HATE the name of the chain, I find it offensive, but my boycotting the place has not seemed to make much of a dent in their overall profit structure and expansion plans. They do make a valiant effort to keep the restrooms clean, a major plus when on the road, so I've decided it is time to swallow my indignation and move on.)
My original Ford LTD station wagon, baby safely buckled in her car seat in the back, has been replaced several times over. The car seat is but a distant memory, and wouldn't fit well in the back of the Mustang anyways. Nor would the kids.
No longer, on any part of the drive, does one hit the seek button on the radio (yes, I still listen to the car radio) and have it scan the entire dial (sometimes I miss radio dials) without landing on a music station. However, the assorted preachers are still there on the bottom edge of the dial, and I occasionally still listen in for a bit. Arguing with the empty air, outlining the many ways I disagree with their message, helps to keep my mind engaged and awake.
Unlike the days of yore, when I called from pay phones or not at all (because of the expense of the long distance call), I have my cell phone charged and ready. As I drive, I can easily update those waiting for me at the end of the road, so they know when to expect me. I like that part.
I still can't quite grasp how many years have gone by. I mean, I know the numbers, but I guess I somehow always thought I'd get older on the inside, just like I do on the outside. This inner time-warp limbo, where I'm still somehow in my early adult years while simultaneously gray-haired and retired, gets harder and harder to reconcile with reality. Probably because it's not reality-based.
It does make for interesting conversations with myself - I have SO many more perspectives to bring to a situation these days. Perhaps reality is overrated, no?
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