The Florida Turnpike was FREE
Wow. They didn't collect any tolls on the FL Turnpike as I headed south on Friday. Don't know about on Saturday, or heading north, as I took the Beeline up to Okachobee and then US 441 up to Yeehaw Junction and then SR 60 home.
In case you were wondering, yes, there were some trailers.
If you are looking to drive through a bunch of nothing and are closer to Miami than to Tuscon, follow that forsaken route. About the only thing to look at is the anguished faces of the other drivers in your rearview as they realize that you indeed intend to go the speed limit. Makes for some really contorted faces.
Although it was mentioned several times that they would have been more prepared if I had given them some warning that I was coming, we enjoyed our micro-visit with the sis, Mike and the kids. And besides, why would I treat them any different than my friends? I used to call Frank in Pittsburgh, when I lived in Virginia, and ask him if he was up for some company. Then when he'd say yes, I'd be there in 5 minutes because I was already in town.
He'd always ask what I would do if he'd said no to company and I'd tell him that a) I wouldn't tell him I was already in town and b) the solo adventure would have commenced as soon as I hung up. I was never one to miss an opportunity to explore and experience. But, since he never said no, the point is moot.
Also, as much as I love all of my friends and adopted family in the area, every single trip, and I mean EVERY trip, somebody stole something from me. Not the people I was visiting, mind you. But their neighbors, or strangers, or transients. It was somebody nefarious. I lost a tool box, someone popped open my camper and selectively lifted rods, reels and lures, and I lost a trailer hitch. But the most bizarre was this time:
We were headed home through some steep, winding roads (in other words, Pittsburgh area roads) after a night out carousing and dancing. It was me, Frank, and 2 of his sisters. We were done and headed home when it commenced to raining. I was not able to see very good and allowed as how I was going to need to stop and adjust the wiper blades a mite closer to the windshield if we hoped to avoid an unplanned trip off a mountian side. I got out, fiddled with the wiper arm a moment and then got back in. I am told I was wearing a most bewildered look.
"Someone at the dance hall has done stoled my windshield wipers", I announced. It was true. The arms were there but no blades. It was cold, it was rainy and I couldn't see to drive. I wound up taking off my t-shirt (I never wore a coat no matter how cold because I was just gonna go from the car to the dance hall and back to the car, not play outside) so I was both shirtless and coatless. And, of course, sporting some fairly perky nips by now. My t shirt could be found wound around the driver's side wiper arm, smearing out a slightly open spot to see out of so I could navigate us, ever so slowly and frighteningly, back to Carnegie.
Indicate amount enclosed, out
Ramblin' Ed
In case you were wondering, yes, there were some trailers.
If you are looking to drive through a bunch of nothing and are closer to Miami than to Tuscon, follow that forsaken route. About the only thing to look at is the anguished faces of the other drivers in your rearview as they realize that you indeed intend to go the speed limit. Makes for some really contorted faces.
Although it was mentioned several times that they would have been more prepared if I had given them some warning that I was coming, we enjoyed our micro-visit with the sis, Mike and the kids. And besides, why would I treat them any different than my friends? I used to call Frank in Pittsburgh, when I lived in Virginia, and ask him if he was up for some company. Then when he'd say yes, I'd be there in 5 minutes because I was already in town.
He'd always ask what I would do if he'd said no to company and I'd tell him that a) I wouldn't tell him I was already in town and b) the solo adventure would have commenced as soon as I hung up. I was never one to miss an opportunity to explore and experience. But, since he never said no, the point is moot.
Also, as much as I love all of my friends and adopted family in the area, every single trip, and I mean EVERY trip, somebody stole something from me. Not the people I was visiting, mind you. But their neighbors, or strangers, or transients. It was somebody nefarious. I lost a tool box, someone popped open my camper and selectively lifted rods, reels and lures, and I lost a trailer hitch. But the most bizarre was this time:
We were headed home through some steep, winding roads (in other words, Pittsburgh area roads) after a night out carousing and dancing. It was me, Frank, and 2 of his sisters. We were done and headed home when it commenced to raining. I was not able to see very good and allowed as how I was going to need to stop and adjust the wiper blades a mite closer to the windshield if we hoped to avoid an unplanned trip off a mountian side. I got out, fiddled with the wiper arm a moment and then got back in. I am told I was wearing a most bewildered look.
"Someone at the dance hall has done stoled my windshield wipers", I announced. It was true. The arms were there but no blades. It was cold, it was rainy and I couldn't see to drive. I wound up taking off my t-shirt (I never wore a coat no matter how cold because I was just gonna go from the car to the dance hall and back to the car, not play outside) so I was both shirtless and coatless. And, of course, sporting some fairly perky nips by now. My t shirt could be found wound around the driver's side wiper arm, smearing out a slightly open spot to see out of so I could navigate us, ever so slowly and frighteningly, back to Carnegie.
Indicate amount enclosed, out
Ramblin' Ed
That's what I'm about. Ramblin' Ed at 7:18 AM
1 comments:
Yeah thats a goodie- Jn
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