Traffic

I left Ferry Beach Conference Center at quarter past one. By quarter to three, I hit rush hour traffic, just before the junction of Interstate 95 and Interstate 93. Traffic was heavy and slow from there all the way around Boston. By five o’clock, when I was well south of Boston on Route 24, the traffic finally thinned out a little. I made it home just before six; it should have been a three hour drive.

When I started driving today, I was determined to pay attention and remember whatwhat goes through my mind when I’m driving. Within minutes, I had forgotten that determination. When I drive, it almost seems as if there’s nothing to remember but the bare facts: I started at such-and-such a time, traffic was heavy, I arrived at such-and-such a time. It’s almost as if memory and higher awareness shut down for those five hours I was driving today. Not such a pleasant thought, given how many hours I spend driving.

3 thoughts on “Traffic

  1. Jean

    A thought: you could carry a small tape recorder, digital is nice, and occasionally voice some of your thoughts into it. Or, a notepad affixed to your window can work too. I do a little of both when I drive and it seems to work. Also, if you have time, you can stop halfway, or even at your destination, and write in your journal. The empty space of the trip will have allowed a lot of thoughts to well up and just writing is a good way to get them down on paper. I’m sure you know all this, but just a thought.

  2. Administrator

    Hey Jean, you’re a writer — have you ever written about driving? I mean, have you ever written a truly documentary piece on actually driving (not about the places you stop, but when you’re actually in the car and driving)?

  3. Jean

    Hi Dan –
    Nope – I haven’t written about driving, not as the focus of an entire piece.
    But now…sensing a bit of a challenge…I might.
    I think I meant, with the tape recorder stuff and all that, that the weird thoughts that arise
    *while* you’re driving can be captured better. I hadn’t thought of actually writing *about*
    driving itself. But why not. I drive a lot too, which I wish I didn’t have to do, for reasons
    ecological and economical as much as anything, but I have to admit I love to drive. As hugely
    incorrect as that may be.
    So, okay, writing about driving it is.
    Love, yer sis.

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