10:04 a.m. - 2022-12-29
feelin' it.
I was passing through San Antonio on my way home from a Christmas trip to the coast. Traffic was flowing under blue skies and the brutal cold-front we'd just endured was behind us. The window was cracked and the radio was on. Decreasing speed while navigating a multi-lane highway confluence, I allowed another vehicle to enter the roadway...another baby-blue 2006 Chrysler Town & Country mini-van to be specific. Following close as we both merged onto the interstate, I changed lanes to the right and drew level in the hopes of making eye contact with the driver. I can't articulate exactly why I did this, or what I would have done had I succeeded. Probably the cool “S'up” nod where you sort of lift your chin and squint? Or maybe the classic “point-with-my-thumb-up like a child shooting an imaginary pistol” salute, just something to acknowledge that, in a godless world where we're all destined to die alone, we shared, for a moment, a bond...
But the other driver appeared to be busy scolding someone in the back seat, and didn't notice. I was about to try and catch their attention again when something caught mine. A baby-blue flash in the rear-view mirror caused me to double-take in disbelief. Apparently, at some unmarked point en-route, I’d crossed the threshold between a plausible state of coincidence and the mystic realm of the impossible--because now, somehow, we were three. I gathered myself, scanned the traffic ahead and, in a moment of inspiration, tapped my brakes before resuming speed. This caused the lagging member of our triumvirate to change lanes and accelerate to my right. Then, for a glorious ¼ mile stretch of I-10 west in San Antonio, three baby-blue 2006 Chrysler Town & Country mini-vans ran abreast. Driving in tight formation at 65 mph...like we was top-guns. Feelin' it.
