June 22 marked the summer solstice. The longest day of the year. America’s calender is governed by the July 4th holiday. The official start of summer and nothing says summer more than the Independence Day Traffic Festival. Millions of cars, trucks, and motorcycles hit the highways. Destination. Fun, sun, BBQs, beer, beaches, pools, lakes, mountains.
Anyplace but home.
Bottlenecks, accidents and overheated cars create monumental snarls, doubling or tripling the length of journeys. Tempers are short. Tourrette’s Syndrome epidemic.
I opted out of the festival.
All my plans fell through.
No Sarasota. No Nantucket. No Hamptons. No Jersey Shore.
Fort Greene and drinking beer at Franks’s on Fulton.
No traffic and cold beer.
Paradise.