So I am on the road again. Sort of.
Not in the sense of truly being on the road.
In that, to many, perhaps most, this expression ‘on the road’ implies a road trip.
What I do is work away from home, which isn’t quite the same thing.
Where I work is not within commuting distance, so I stay at a hotel close to the work site.
In general, that has worked out fairly well.
Earlier this week, however, when I started the car after breakfast at the hotel, I became immediately aware of a roaring sound.
Not unlike what some drivers (mainly male, mainly young) deliberately aim for, in their unspoken wish to be noticed.
The Bard wrote about them in “Macbeth,” Act V, Scene V: “Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Law enforcement has targeted such people, posting signs such as this: “Loud exhausts will be ticketed.”
The sound seemed to be coming immediately beneath me, and I was initially mystified.
I didn’t have a lot of time to cogitate, however, as I needed to be at work soon.
So, with some trepidation, I gingerly moved the car onto the road, hoping I could make it to my destination.
The town in question is not familiar to me.
It’s about 90 miles from where I live.
