Ode to 87

For me, driving is what war must be like: long hours of boredom punctuated by bursts of mortal fear.

The limitations you experience behind the wheel are as fundamental—in good ways and bad—as those you face in life: the imperative of staying with the crowd to avoid censure, the blind spot that results from your own presence, the inherent danger of a journey of any kind, and, for me, the sense of undertaking a task that taxes my skills but feeling successful no matter how many mistakes are made as long as I don't kill anyone.

Safely home from driving my daughter back to school.