Speed

"Driving is a spectacular form of amnesia. Everything is to be discovered, everything to be obliterated." - Jean Baudrillard

I have a lot on my mind. Too much. I'm in this holding pattern that isn't all that great for me. Wait for the house. Wait for the job. Wait and see what's going to happen with X, Y and Z. I'm a doer, not a waiter so this makes me restless and a little bit grumpy. Things are good, things will all work out and the pace is about to increase in a big way...but until then...grrrr.

This morning, both children are crazily asking what the plan for the day is. I mentally run through the possibilities and nothing is appealing to me. It's not apathy - I'm up for something, but everything I can think of is just so...mundane. I tell them that I'm going to take a bath and get dressed and then we'll decide. It's only 8AM, so we've got time.

While I'm in the bath, I realize that what I'd really like would be to be in Myrtle Beach with them. To visit the Aquarium, to walk barefoot in the sand, to have She-Crab Soup and fried shrimp at the Sea Captain's House listening to the waves lap the shore. Then later, curl up in bed and open the windows and let the ocean air lull me to sleep. Alas, that's not possible.

BUT...I can get my toes in some sand. Hell, I can even go to an aquarium. Corpus Christi is only three hours away, and driving is always fun. Why not? No really...why the fuck not? So I ask the kids if they are up for an adventure. I tell them my plan. Bear looks a little apprehensive, but goes into his room to get dressed and comes out in palm tree trunks. Duck chooses a skirt with a little palm tree on it. Yeah, they're onboard.

I had never been to Corpus before, so I was excited. The drive down is a blast. Once we're out of San Antonio, Duckie is asleep and Bear and I are having a fun chat about all sorts of randomness. That part of the drive is completely magical - a flat, two lane divided highway and virtually no traffic. I'm not driving, I'm flying.

I love driving fast. Really fast. It's such a great way to clear my head. When you're in a car traveling at high speeds, nothing else matters. It can't matter. You have to focus on the road and what you're doing and everything else just sort of falls by the wayside. We're listening to reggae, Bear is singing and I'm just driving. Duck wakes up and is thrilled by the sight of palm trees and it all just makes me very, very happy.

Bear says, "Mom, I've got this funny feeling in my tummy. This is exciting. We didn't plan this, we're just doing it."

"Yeah, babe. I know. You know I'm a planner, but sometimes I just need to shake things up a little."

"That's pretty cool, Mom."

Glad you think so. It won't be the last time.

We get to Corpus and find the Aquarium easily enough, so that's our first stop. It's pretty cool with some really nice exhibits, but the highlight was the dolphin show. It's so amazing to watch such beautiful animals sailing through the water, then lifting out of it before crashing down in a way that is impossibly graceful. The children loved it - almost as much as I did. After, we tromped around the USS Lexington because I felt like we should, had an ice cream cone, then took our shoes off and ran through the sand and let the cold waves tickle our toes.

I love watching my children like that - totally and utterly blissed out by something so simple and pure. I took lots of pictures and just let them have some time. It's getting to be fairly late in the afternoon, however, and I'm realizing that we need to find a hotel room. As I look around at the options, I'm a little shocked.

Turns out Corpus is actually kind of ghetto. The crowd is changing by the second. The families are disappearing and a whole bunch of really rough looking people are beginning to emerge from somewhere. I pop into the only hotel that looks like I could manage sleeping in it, and it's questionable at best. While I'm standing at the desk waiting for the receptionist to check availability, masses and masses of scary looking people begin pouring out of the elevator.

A little advanced research and I could have likely found something more suitable, but this wasn't that sort of trip and I didn't really feel like driving aimlessly around the coast trying to decide where to sleep with two kids that had already spent the morning in the car and were hungry and thirsty.

I look at the kids and tell them we need to go have something to eat and we'll talk about our hotel options at dinner. We find a cute little beach restaurant and sit outside eating fried shrimp and crab and watching the pelicans and seagulls fly overhead. It's wonderful. But it's getting cool and it's getting late.

Duckie is beginning to get sleepy - I can see it in her eyes. Bear is just bouncing off the walls from the adventure. I wanted to wake up and play in the sand the next morning, but I realized that I really didn't want to spend the night in Corpus, in a hotel with a bunch of rough looking people who would be very drunk very soon. Then I realized that the kids would fall asleep instantly on the way home and I'd be able to drive very fast on the awesome, sparsely traveled road between Corpus and San Antonio. It was a good idea, in theory.

We leave Corpus and talk about the day. The kids are so excited - telling me everything we just did as if I weren't there and I'm enjoying listening to them talk and I'm driving fast. Very fast. Very, very fast. It's dark at this point - and it's just perfect - not another car in my field of vision, not even the cop that clocked me at 92. In a 65. Oops.

He saunters up to the car - all slovenly and all I can hear in my head is Junior Brown's song "Highway Patrol". I hand him my ID and insurance and he asks me to step out. Bear screams, "Don't arrest my mom. She's a nurse, people need her." And I'm laughing.

The cop points out to me that my speed is not a laughing matter. I acknowledge his righteousness and apologize profusely. I tell him that I didn't realize I was driving that fast, but that I never get the opportunity to drive on straight, flat roads. In an effort to lighten him up, I say, "Honestly, Officer, I'm surprised my Corolla even goes that fast. The speedometer stops at 80 so I really didn't realize." He doesn't laugh.

He says, "Did you realize you weren't signaling lane changes, either?"

Sometimes, I'm just on. "Sir, at those speeds, do you really think it matters?"

Well, it was funny. Shit, dude, my kids have Krispy Kreme donuts...may I interest you? No, I didn't say it. But they did, and it crossed my mind.

He wasn't the asshole he could have been. He only gave me a warning for the failure to signal lane changes. He did write me what I'm sure will be a phenomenally expensive ticket, and he did slow me down for the duration of the drive home.

That was even more excitement for the children, however, and Duck didn't fall asleep until we were close to San Antonio. After she fell asleep, Bear and I had a really great, really important conversation about life and love and happiness. He is such an amazing little boy with a great heart. He fell asleep about 20 minutes from the house, as usual.

I accidentally woke Duck as I was getting her out of the car and she said, "Where are we?"

"Home, sweetie. We're home."

And she says, "Oh, good. The perfect end to a perfect day." Her chubby little arms wrapped tightly around my neck, her sleepy breath warm on my cheek felt wonderful, and I'm glad we had our "adventure" today. We all really needed it and while I won't fall asleep with ocean air filling my lungs tonight, I did walk on sand, and breathe the salty air and I did get away from it all for a bit.