Stranded 40 Feet from Home

My car, stuck at the foot of our stupid driveway.

Cold day. Cold irony.

This week the teeming cloud hordes of Old Man Winter barreled across the American skies and bludgeoned entire states and regions into total pandemonium. Blizzards dumped heavy swaths all around as if half the United States were now honorary Minnesotas. Schools and other community activities that had opened their doors to welcome COVID-19 and its carriers reneged and locked their doors. Power grids failed. Water pipes seized up. Numerous utility companies faced wrathful accountability for their shortsightedness, for skimping on precautionary upgrades, and for being smug greed-heads. Homes became inhospitable and even dangerous, forcing families to seek shelter, charity, and survival elsewhere. The turmoil dragged on for hours and days even after the snowfall ceasefire. Millions of internet users distracted themselves by logging onto their devices by candlelight, their batteries down to 15% or less, and channeling their unchecked rage into scathing verbal attacks on the Zodiac Killer. This week was like 2020 all over again, much like all the 2021 weeks that preceded it, but, like, somehow in its own way even 2020-ier.

Me? I got my car stuck at the end of our driveway.

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Technically There’s a Message After the “Baby Driver” End Credits

Baby Driver!

Spoiler photo from the Young Han Solo set, where so little budget is left for reshoots that actors have to share earbuds while being prompted with their hastily rewritten lines.

Now that Baby Driver mania has stopped taking the internet by storm, is it safe to come out of hiding and confess I didn’t think it was Edgar Wright’s Best Film Ever? It had its strong points and it’s certainly better than The World’s End, which didn’t click with me at all…

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Our 2007 Road Trip, Part 9: All Drive and No Play

McBistro!

You know your vacation has hit a snag when a stop at McDonald’s is the most interesting part of your day.

Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:

Every year since 1999 Anne and I have taken a road trip to a different part of the United States and seen attractions, marvels, history, and institutions we didn’t have back home in Indianapolis. From 1999 to 2003 we did so as best friends; from 2004 to the present, as husband and wife. For 2007 we changed up our strategy a bit and designed an itinerary for what would prove our most kid-friendly outing ever. Granted, my son was now twelve years old and less kid-like than he used to be, but the idea was sound in principle.

Thus in this year of our Lord did we declare: the Goldens are going to Florida!

On the penultimate day of our 2007 vacation, we learned another lesson that hadn’t occurred to us in our previous experiences. We were swift to institute a new rule in response for the future: never schedule an eight- to ten-hour drive without planning a single interesting stop along the way. Immobility and boredom proved to be a dreadful tag team on our return through Georgia.

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The Unkindest Roads

Birdseye.

For all we talk about road trips, sometimes the open road is not our friend. Last Saturday it was determined to be the enemy.

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