I was remembering late nights at Wake Forest reading Kierkegaard and Nietzsche, and then Barth. And, I remember blowing off class occasionally for a "roadtrip." A roadtrip for me could happen on any day of the week. And, my roadtrips were usually just me and a friend, maybe two or three friends, but usually just one other person. It was when we just wanted to leave behind what was going on at school, and go to a place where we could be free for a while. I always remember my best college roadtripping friend, Joe Westmoreland. Joe and I usually would take off mid-week, in the evening, without any planning. Just when we wanted to go (gas was real cheap back then, and I had a diesel/45 cents a gallon/45 miles per gallon!). We would leave Winston-Salem, go to High Point, Thomasville, Concord, Davidson, whereever, just talking all the way like we were in another land and weren't coming back. We talked freely, and told the truth and tested out our ideas and vented our frustrations. And, then at some point we would decide to head back to Wake Forest. And, when we got back, we were redeemed. We felt freer. Because we knew something other students didn't know. We knew we could get away. We knew that our true selves were out there somewhere on the road. We knew we could continue to dream even amidst the confines of class and the college social world. We knew we were free. Me and my friend Joe.
And, there were some other great roadtrippers at Wake. My wife, Sue. My dear friend, John. And, there was Chuck. My friend, Susan. And, there were the roadtrippers from Davidson Summer Tennis Camp - Susan, Amy. And, from Clemson, Jim and Carol and Eddie Iskowski(that was an ill-advised roadtrip!).
But, nobody could be ready to go at anytime like Joe. Nobody, but maybe my Dad and my Grandfather. Some people have just got "roadtrip" in their blood.