Checking It Out

They say that if you want something done, ask a busy person. By way of explaining how busy I am, suffice it to say that people keep asking me to do things.

It seems that several (most) evenings each week, I am off to a board meeting or committee meeting of one organization or another. When these meetings adjourn, carryover conversation often flows out into the parking lot as we all walk out to stretch our legs, gulp in some fresh air, and make our way to our cars.

We might get within ten yards of the Routan when there will be a break in the conversation and someone will pipe up, “So what’s the deal with the new car?” (The big blog stickers plastered on the car are not exactly inconspicuous.)

“You want to check it out?” (I know they do.) I move toward the car and proceed to click a few buttons on my key fob and the side doors roll open, the lift gate pops up, the engine turns over. I spend some time talking enthusiastically (but that’s just how I talk!) and showing off all the bells and whistles, then close the doors to better show off Volkswagen’s neat interior illumination.

Though it is a frequent comment in the presence of the Routan, there was one night recently when I actually wished afterwards that I had counted how many times one of my friends said, “That’s cool.” It easily numbered more than a dozen times.

As we’re talking (and gawking), the number of people moving around all sides of the vehicle, poking their heads in and out, makes me feel a bit like I’m the lead member of a pit crew sometimes. I feel like instead of pointing out the neat VW logo inside the headlamps, I should be demonstrating how fast I can change the tires (which is pretty respectably I think – thanks Dad!)

And then, when I finish my little show, we wrap up our conversations, and everyone is finally heading home, someone always asks, “So are we going to be in your blog now?”

Sure you are.

HI GUYS!

Getting There

Do you have that place? That place which is your favorite place to be in the whole world? For me, that place is not an island getaway or a faraway land. In fact, it is less than a seven hour car drive away from home (including one, and only one, quick stop for fuel and restroom break somewhere in the middle of Indiana), but it’s a world apart.

In every car that has ever held a choice piece of garage real estate in our home, there has been a folded piece of notebook paper tucked behind the sun visor above the passenger seat. Written on this now tattered scrap are directions to Fontana (on Geneva Lake), Wisconsin.

I don’t need these directions; I know the route by heart. I keep that paper there because it makes me think that I could just get in the car and go at any given time – just drive away to the magical land of Wisconsin. I do try to live in a world of reality most of the time, but just seeing this little piece of paper offers me a virtual escape any day of the year I might need one. (Often, a much needed escape during the dreary northeast Ohio winters.)

But this week, there’s no fantasy…it’s the real deal. On Friday afternoon, I slipped my hand behind that visor and brushed my fingertips along the tattered paper to make sure my Lake Geneva directions were in place as we prepared to hit the road for a week’s vacation.

Despite the Routan’s onboard navigation system, I insisted on bringing along our coffee table sized road atlas. (You can call me an “old dog”, I won’t take offense.) Dan stowed the atlas in the underfoot floor storage area for the trip. I balked, but in the end relented and grudgingly agreed to give the navigation system a try. (Though quite honestly, since we knew very well where we were going, I treated it more as a toy than a tool this time around.)

My assessment is this: I found the navigation system kind of cool; I like watching the little road map on the screen move along as we travel, but I’m still not sure how I feel about the sweet stubbornness I hear in our female “navigator’s” tone… “Prepare to turn left….Turn left now.” She is assertive, confident in her direction, and not too overbearing. There is, however, a somewhat artificial politeness to her voice…her tone gives the impression of being well-bred, but never once does she say the word “please.” Her tone makes me sure that she must be beautiful…and probably stuck-up. I don’t know….I’m just saying that maybe sometimes she could maybe try a friendly, “Hey, go ahead and hang a left up there.” You know, like a real road-tripping companion. I suppose I can’t fault her too much; she might be lacking in personality, but she certainly does know where she’s going.

And this time, I know where I’m going, too. Because I’ve got the directions written across my heart.

And my Hardt is at Lake Geneva.

*Dedicated to family, good fun, good food, and finding a place to lay your head… To all my family, however you may navigate your way to The Lake. Big love and extra special thanks to E1!