I'm not sure which was more difficult
for this quiet introvert: Transitioning from the solitary
introspection of a seven-hour road trip to the boisterous celebration
of the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop Tribe of Loud, Smart, Funny Women and Men (emphasis on
the loud), or re-acclimating to the silence on the way home.
Speaking of quiet car rides . . . I was
a little surprised to find that I hadn't worked my way through all
the Billy Joel albums on my iPod by the time I got to Ohio. I was a
little embarrassed to find I still hadn't made it through my play
list by the time I returned home to Iowa.
And another thing about driving . . .
One of the best but overlooked aspects of the workshop? The
door-to-door shuttle service between the hotel and the classes. Back
home I am the shuttle service. And, unlike my kids, my fellow
shuttle-ers were always ready to talk!
Speaking of kids . . . When I returned
to my hotel room each day, my bed was made-made (not just
straightened) and all my crap was neatly arranged on the bathroom
counter. I wondered if this is what my family feels like when they
come home at the end of the day.
Speaking of being a mom . . . Shout out
to the guy at the gas station in Indiana who called me “Miss”
when trying to get my attention. I wasn't ignoring you. It just took
me a while to realize you were talking to me.
Speaking of Indiana drivers . . . Does
everyone there drive like they're qualifying for the Indy 500? I
worried I might lose time by taking a two-lane “shortcut,” but
pulled in behind a line of cars going darn near the same speed we
were on the interstate! Not that I'm complaining!
Speaking of GPS shortcuts . . . This
was the second time I relied solely on my car's navigation system.
There's something reassuring about the confidence with which Sally
(my GPS) gives directions. I may not know where we're going – heck,
Sally may not know – but by god, we're going there with confidence!
Speaking of Sally's confidence . . .
I'm good with her confidence, but does she have to sound so
exasperated when she says “recalculating”?
Speaking of recalculating . . . I'm not
willing to take all the blame for Sunday morning's little excursion
through downtown Dayton in search of an on-ramp, Sally. “Keep
left” is a bit wishy-washy, don't you think? It's either turn or
don't turn. On the plus side, there's very little traffic in downtown
Dayton on a Sunday morning.
Speaking of speaking . . . About the
fourth time Sally exasperatedly told me she was “recalculating” I
started wishing she had a little of the warmth and wisdom of the Erma
Tribe. The new and improved Sally – nicknamed “Erma,” of course
– would have laughed and joked when I missed that turn. “ErmaGPS”
would have known instinctively that I was not ignoring her demands,
but searching frantically for a Waffle House. “ErmaGPS” would
have pointed out that I could never make it 65 miles until the next
rest stop.
In other words . . . Sally's a great
gal and all, but if she really wanted me to listen to her, she'd try
to sound a bit more like Erma.
Or like Billy Joel.
