Wednesday, March 14, 2012


I just completed my great eight day cross-country adventure. I agreed to drive my son's 1998 Subaru from Sacramento to him in Washington, D.C. The last time I did this drive alone was 42 years ago in my 1974 Ford Pinto (puky mustard color, white landau top, four-on-the-floor stick shift, $3,450 out the door), and the last time I did it at all was with my wife in 1977 in the same Pinto.

Shortly thereafter the Pinto's tendency to combust on impact was exposed and my wife's parents forbade her from driving with me. But other than that small explosive detail, the Pinto was reliable, sturdy, uncomfortable, and ugly. The Subaru was a lot better on all counts.

The trip sounded great in theory. However, as debarkation day approached and my wife, who undoubtedly is smarter than me, said that she would be flying out to meet me near D.C., I began to question just how fun this would be.

Turns out it was great fun.