Friday, March 23, 2012

No sleep til Nashville

The roof of the Peabody Hotel, Memphis, 2005

Nick and I are leaving tonight for Nashville to visit my grandparents for the weekend. Nashville is a 6.5 hour drive from Columbus, dwelling in that tricky limbo between Easy Afternoon Drive and Let's Just Fly There. As we live pretty close to our respective parents, it's been more than a year since we properly road-tripped. Can that be right?

I am pretty guilty of letting my car become an untidy extension of my untidy mind. Stacks of paper coffee cups nested togther like stale-smelling Matryoshka dolls, pennies and receipts covering the floorboards, yoga mats, clothes, books. Whenever there is an off-site work function that requires staff carpooling, I wince inwardly and hope no one suggests I drive because seriously, what a mess. Yesterday, I got the oil changed and the ol' girl washed and vacuumed out and for the ohhh three days it stays nice-looking I will feel So Adult.

We're armed with hours of audiobooks from the library (Sarah Vowell! David Sedaris! Michael Chabon!) though Nick predicts I will get bored of the narrative immediately and prefer to constantly toggle between middle-of-nowhere FM to find Bob Seger. Um, fair.

And I've got some questions. Like, I've always known that my grandfather swam across the Marianas Trench. But what year? And why? I know it was during the war, but I want to know so much more.

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