In my life, by my own unscientific, not so mathematic, sort of a wild and exaggerated calculation, I estimate that I have driven approximately 7,538,390 miles.
But it’s probably more.
I mean, living 30 miles (give or take) from the nearest town and having acquired my drivers license and a 1982 Sorta Pink Ford LTD I liked to call Rosie when I was only 14, I’ve had ample opportunity to put plenty of road behind me in twenty or so years…
Take that and add the five years I spent touring up and down the country singing for my supper and you think you could call me an expert…in maps, in traffic laws, in emergency preparedness, in flat tires and rear-enders, turn signals and every gas station from here to Ada, Oklahoma.
And I am. I am an expert in some of those things. Like emergency preparedness.
Just take a look in my car right now. I have everything you’d ever need if you were ever stranded…at a party…or a bonfire.
A can of Big Sexy Hairspray. Sunflower seeds. A guitar stand. Blankets. Magazines. An extra pair of Toms slip ons. A beach towel. Wrapped Christmas presents I still need to deliver to my best friend and her kids in Bismarck. Thirty-seven half drunk water bottles and one sorta-full Snapple. Can cozies. A partridge in a pear tree.
Oh, and the backpack my mother-in-law packed for me in case of an apocalypse. There’s that to go along with the winter gear.
I’ve got piles of it.
Yes, I’m a true North Dakotan, so in case the summer kegger doesn’t spontaneously occur, I’m covered for winter too.
So I should have known better…
Coming Home: Car stocked up for any situation, except running out of gas
by Jessie Veeder
Hears to full tanks and full hearts.