An English In Kentucky


















June 3rd  2011    Tim Candler

    Took the long way into the Big Town.  Here where I live the long way is also known as the 'short cut' and it adds half a scenic hour to the ninety minutes there and the ninety minutes home again.

    The worst 'short cut' ever was through the City of Baltimore.  I remember it to this day.  We had the blue truck and there were so many stops and starts we almost exhausted the clutch.   In those days I of course, being peculiar, refused to run the air-conditioning on the assumption that in very hot weather air-conditioning over heats engines, leaves a person stranded and at the mercy of those jaded characters who drive wreckers and sneer at credit cards.


     'Short cuts' on the way back are always out of the question, because these days I become vociferant  and opinionated when beyond the county line for periods of time.  As well I have further classic old fart characteristics that make me an even greater pain in the neck as a travelling companion.  If I drink nothing the day before I can manage two hours at most, and this so long as I am permitted for ten or fifteen minutes to mimic a geriatric in his death throes.

    My own preference would be for one of those "Beam me up, Scottie" machines.  I want to be able to fax myself to destinations, be there and back in seconds.   And Monday I go the dentist, so there is no end to it, this side of that glorious day when gasoline hits fifty dollars a gallon.

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