Road Trippin’ Alameda

I am no longer a spring chicken, as you may know, and one of the unwelcome discoveries of aging is a loss of energy, both physical and psychological. At the end of life we are on a downward spiral, and it starts to seem easier to let things go, beg off engagements, stop going out and indeed, begin to wait around for the inevitable.

I felt that creeping up on me and didn’t like it. Looking for an antidote we came upon a road trip. We have several friends and relatives in southern California and the desire to see them coupled with the desire to combat encroaching loss of joie de vivre sent us on a road trip. 

I really didn’t know whether I could make the drive to Los Angeles (about six hours) any longer but I was game to try. At worst I would have to take an extended break, at best it would be smooth sailing.

We took along two, thick cushions because I knew that three to four hours into the drive my poor tush would be complaining. The cushions worked great and I’m happy to report that I did as well. 

Five and a half hours after leaving Alameda we pulled up at my sweetie’s cousin’s house and were greeted like royalty. Fresh fruit, cheese, coffee and hugs and smiles all around. They even installed us in their bedroom suite for the night. Luxury!

Over the next week we visited with them, friends in Long Beach and friends in San Diego. We drove around each of the towns sightseeing, ate at numerous restaurants and took in the vibe of SoCal. After San Diego we spent another glorious night with the cousins on the way back, and then on Sunday morning gassed up and drove home.

A successful road trip. We survived and I proved to myself that I still have enough energy to drive more than 1,000 miles and not collapse. 

Proved another thing as well, to quote Judy Garland, “Oh Toto, there’s no place like home!”


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