Tales from the Road.

It is Wednesday morning; the second day of our road trip. We are 20 miles outside of Utica on the Thruway (which is another way of saying the middle of nowhere).

By some fluke of weather, it is 25 degrees and raining. We have angered the travel gods. Because we haven’t been going for very long, the windshield is still cold and the rain sticks to the glass and freezes immediately. My brand new wipers do nothing. We are forced to pull over every ten minutes to scrape. My car looks like an Original Glazed. We finally pull in to a rest stop and buy some washer fluid that won’t freeze.

“That’s a pretty ugly hat you’ve got there,” the attendant says, referring to my faded blue hat with the bright red “B”.

“Thanks... I wear it with pride.”

“The pinstripes will be back next year,” he barks at me.

“Don’t count on it,” I shoot back.

I’m feeling a little more confident as we get on the road. I’m not going to let the weather or a Yankee fan get me down. I’ve got places to be.