The in-betweens

I’ve done 4 road trips in the past 2 weeks. It revived a particular feeling. It starts with a mini van cruising down the interstate. The sound system plays the audiobook of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Air conditioning blasts audibly, a white noise waterfall. Inside our car is a vehicular fish bowl. My nose is glued to the windows. As a kid, I loved watching forgotten - and often derelict - roadside towns buzz by.

As an adult, I can’t help but be similarly fascinated with novelty sculptures (looking at you, world’s largest dresser), barn door preaching (“Jesus saves you from all your disgusting sinning”, and bold proclamations (“the best bread pudding in all of Polk county”).

An air of the peculiar and proud stirs me. It makes you wonder which local souls cast the magic. Who lives by these towns? Who shouts for your attention? There is intrigue in knowing who is hell-bent on shouting their watermark of Americana, asking you stop and take in what they offer… And spend a couple dollars while you are at it.

These places we pass relates to our experience of life. We live milestone to milestone, but in between moments grasp for our attention. The friendly subway commuter, our flourishing house plants, and a walk around the block - the everyday misses our permanent memory. Unfairly, we erase vagueness or relative mundanity. There is a magic to these moments though. They act as our caps-locked billboards. They glue together our milestones. Our in-betweens shout at us to stop, get out of our cars, and stand to appreciate. Our in-betweens have a lot to offer.

That’s what’s been on my mind as of late. Happy 2023.