Wednesday, January 30, 2008

The Journey is the Destination

There is no better way to christen the New Year than by taking a road trip with your good friend. So my best buddy Celine and I took off work early on Friday, jumped into my car, cranked up the stereo and started out for our favorite bacon maple bar donut making city in the Pacific Northwest: Portland, Oregon. Heading south on Highway 99, we had been on the road for less than twenty minutes when we came upon the First Ave. South drawbridge just south of downtown Seattle.

If the First Ave. bridge is going up, one can anticipate waiting at least ten and perhaps up to fifteen or more minutes before traffic will start moving again. Every once in a while I manage to be on the bridge approach during such an occurrence. I've found there's no better way to pass the time of the opening and closing of the bridge than by shutting off my engine, getting out of the car and doing at least one cartwheel between the lanes of restless commuters parked in their cars in front of the raised deck.

This afternoon, as Celine and I were eager to begin out adventures, we ended up stopped at the bridge in the perfect cartwheel spot. Usually it's dark out when I hit the bridge, but on this magical day, the sun was shining bright and we had all the time in the world, so I, of course, could not help myself. I killed the engine and jumped out of the car. If you could have seen the perfect gymnastic wonder I demonstrated on the bridge approach, you would have thought I was Mary Lou Retton herself. I was showered by an array of car horns honking their approval. The old lady in the car next to us flashed me a big denture filled smile and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. I returned her smile and quickly got back into the car to listen to Celine's hysterical giggling. Glancing in my side view mirror, I saw a trucker from the 18-wheeler parked several vehicles back climbing down out of his rig and heading my way. He approached my window and I promptly rolled it down.

"Lady" he said with a slight drawl, "you just made my day. I'm a long haul truck driver and I tell you what, you do two more cartwheels for me and I'll blow the longest, most appreciative trucker horn you've ever heard in your life!"

"DEAL!" I exclaimed.

I got back out, pulled my pants up by my belt loops, wriggled my behind a little, posed for a second with my hands in the air, and busted out with two more near perfect cartwheels. The trucker kept his end of the bargain too. He blasted his fucking horn for a full fifteen seconds and my heart exploded with joy.