Driving

The theme for my Memorial Day 2006 was driving.

3 hours up, 3 hours back.

Two things of note happened on today's trip:
1) Without checking my blindspot, I merged into the right lane on Hwy 67, heading north to Indy. A motorcycle appeared out of nowhere in my rearview mirror seconds later. Within a minute, he was driving parallel with, matching my speed, and I couldn't help but glimpse over at him as he beeped his sissy bike horn. He was glaring at me and did the my-eyes-are-on-you gesture, while mouthing the words, OPEN YOUR EYES! Though I felt really bad for almost killing him, I busted up laughing at his gesture and words because of the ridiculousness of it all. While traveling at 60+ mph, he was scolding me. And he wasn't even wearing a helmet!

2) On my way home, I had windows down to provide some relief from the 104 degree heat (according to a bank marquee in Indy). As I approached a town that boasted 1,798 residents, I was mocking it in my head, all the while resenting every last resident for the reduced speed limit through the no-stop-light town. At first I noticed a woodsy smell, and I thought to myself, That's the kind of wood that smells kind of like weed, only it's not. How funny that an entire town should smell like this. And I continued singing along with the stereo. Minute number two within the city limits, however, changed my mind as to the source of the smell. It was strong, pungent, even, and it definitely was the same scent that I first smelt wafting from the boys locker room in Advanced PE of my senior year. It was weed people. The entire small town reeked of weed.