Originally posted on April 16, 2012
A few days ago I flew down to Nashville to drive my daughter and her car back home from college for the summer. I was struck by the difference between my trip down and our trip back.
On my trip down I arrived at the airport, went to the computer monitor to check my bags, stood in line to be screened. After an hour wait, I was squeezed into the very last row of the plane. During the 3 hour flight I felt like I was in a straitjacket. Everything was so impersonal and regimented.
As my daughter and I drove back to New Hampshire, I couldn’t help but notice the different “texture” of the trip.
We had time to talk and listen to our favorite music together. We stopped at our convenience. It was cool to see the faces of the servers in the restaurants and hear the different accents. We really got a sense of the area from the landscape, the buildings and even the billboards.
Each state had its own “feel.” We saw everything from broke down barns to the New York City skyline.
Yes, it took longer to get home by way of car, but it was a much richer experience.
Faster isn’t always better.