Have you ever suggested something well in advance of something that was to occur and then wonder what you were thinking as the reality of that something draws near? In this context “suggested” implies that it was your bright idea, and that particular bright idea includes you as a major player in the execution and completion of the bright idea.

When we make suggestions well in advance, that something is in a fuzzy, hazy state, with borders, implications, and realities that are abstract and not well defined. From a distance, I may look 20-years old, but as one draws themselves nearer and the borders (wrinkles), become more well defined, one is quick to realize that distance and shadows clouded the reality of my being. In golfing parlance, I’m a 9-iron, I look good from about 100-yards out.

From 100-yards out, the suggestion of a road trip from Grenville South Dakota to Houston Texas, and back again, seemed like a good, or at least an interesting, idea. My track record for good ideas is admittedly short, and what I consider interesting is often met with question and doubt from the seemingly sane. The sane that opt for a few hours by air, rather than a few days by land.

I have nothing against air travel, I am a fervent fan of little bags of pretzels, and little bottles of liquor to wash down little bags of pretzels, but sometimes a situation calls for one to transcend such conveniences and descend upon the slow road.

My wife’s sister and her husband live in Houston, two of their children are graduating from high school in the next few weeks. My wife’s father, Bernie, and one of his brothers, Tony, are active participants in the lives of the previously mentioned branch of the family tree, and thus, were planning to attend the graduation festivities in Houston.

Knowledge of the dates and times of graduation festivities is generally known well in advance of the specified date and time of such festivities…months…days…100-yards. A distance far enough removed to offer a buffer-zone in which a bright idea might percolate.

“You fly, I’ll drive Bernie and Tony to Houston.” Someone like myself said to someone like my wife several months ago. Why did someone like myself say such a thing to someone like my wife?

Partly for you dear reader, yes you. Writing is birthed from experiences, and if I cease to have experiences, I cease to have anything to write about. Also, given the option, I knew Bernie and Tony would prefer to roll with a road trip rather than be herded and hustled through the friendly skies.

Those two have made many such road trips in the past, but as that past slips further from view, their loved ones have begun to question and object to such. So it goes.

Bernie and Tony are good men, and have both managed to remain largely autonomous in most every aspect of their lives as they move past the midway point of their eighth decade. They are old men, old men that don’t hear so well, and often repeat each other as a result of not really hearing each other. I’m not a young man, but I’m young in comparison, and my hearing is relatively sound, so I will hear whatever it is they are both talking about, from both of them, for roughly 2,500 miles.

Gas prices and the weather…in stereo, on repeat. Stay tuned.