Pensive Peyote #3

can't you feel it can't you see it
the promise of prosperity
it's overwhelming you and me
it afflicts us like a disease…

As the song “Recipe for Hate” by Bad Religion blares out of the car stereo, I squint my eyes towards the open two-lane highway in front of me. It’s another one of those nights fueled by another one of those days. I hit the + button near the volume control. No matter how rough the day or night is, nothing calms me better than flying down the open road. Windows down, and the stereo volume obscenely high. Summers are more conducive to this method of unwinding for me, but it’s really a year-round method for me.

I started this practice as soon as I had my driver’s license. At 15 I was issued a “day only” driver’s license until I turned 16, but I’ve yet to meet a single individual who actually obeyed that rule. In an often chaotic and unpredictable household, my refuge was the road at night. Those were the only two requirements for me to happy really…an empty road and darkness that could be pierced by my twin headlights.

As I grew older and moved out of the chaos known as my home and through college, my need to do “get away” like that quickly dissipated. The environment I found in college were like none other and it’s only seemed to get better since graduation. But still, I find the thought of an open, empty road intoxicating. Sometimes I’ll be driving to the store at night and all it will take is one glance towards the highway, and then there I am, with all four windows down and some type of high tempo music playing at high decibel levels. I just love it.

Such a simple thing really. I mean, who exactly derives pleasure from a huge chunk of asphalt? Everyone experiences that initial excitement when they receive their driver’s license for the first time. All of the sudden we are the most helpful 15-16 year olds in volunteering to drive to the store for that one gallon of milk. Oh no, we can’t possibly wait for the grocery shopping trip the next day…it must be done for the sake of the family! However, it quickly wears off and we quickly transition into the “you need me to go where? Ugh. Can’t you do it?”

I was certainly no exception to that rule, but I think it had more to do with the fact that a milk stop would be an annoying detriment to the time I spent on that road. Not to mention that most people don’t make milk runs at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning, which was/is my preferred time to hit the highway. This habit never really wore off for me despite the fact that the original catalyst for it basically dissipated after I moved away, and I think a lot of it is because of the simplicity of it. The only thing you have to know when charging down the open road is where you are and where the road is. That’s it. Life is complicated. Driving is not. Work is complicated. Driving is not. The road takes all of those complexities and renders them completely immaterial during the time you spend out there.

I think happiness is entirely dependent on consciously seeking out the things we enjoy doing. Being who you are is the greatest happiness of all in my opinion, and when I hit the highway at 2:00 a.m. to just drive and listen to music, I am able to think clearly and openly about myself, life, and the people in it. I enjoy having the ability to do so because it reminds me of who I am and helps me to clear my head of all the useless bullshit that gets thrown our way in an average day. While driving down the road I am still able to snark at the black and white “God Loves All His Children” billboard about 20 miles east of the city I live in. Why? Because that’s just who I am, and those middle of the night drives remind me of that fact. I consider this habit of mine something that makes me “happy” for one simple reason: I am just me when I’m out there. And I’m perfectly happy with that.