Saturday, June 22, 2013

Planning Negotiations

It had started with a conversationat least this particular leg of the journey had started that way.

“Where do you want to go camping?” the Boy asked me.

“I’m up for anything as long as we can get the monk bread,” is what I responded.

“Well, there is one place, it is really nice, but you won’t like getting there.”

“Why not?”

“It has a road you won’t like.”

I tried to imagine what a road I wouldn't like would look like and finally came to the conclusion that there was no such thing as a road I didn’t like.

“I like roads,” I finally managed to wittily retort with.

“You won’t like this one; it has all the qualities of being a road you won’t like.”

“Is it an actual road?” This is what I thought to ask, because clearly I was fine with roads.

“Well, yes, it’s a road. It’s on a map.

“Then I’m sure I will be fine with it.”

“But you don’t like dirt roads,” he responded.

“I’m fine with dirt roads, whatever, let’s go to this mystery place.”

So we packed up the car for camping to leave out on a Thursday night after I’d finished up some work for the day, to head toward the Upper Peninsula with a very nervous dog. Somehow she got a clear idea a that we were going somewhere and she was very upset about it because she didn’t know what the exact plan was. In the end we managed to get on the road at a sleepily late hour and somewhere near Green Bay it became too much for the entire party so it was determined to stop. This would have been uneventful if it had not been for the most hellishly designed traffic circle I have ever seen.

“Who...who...the fuck! puts a traffic circle immediately off an expressway?” I managed to exclaim about forty times, because this traffic circle was like the traffic circle of doom. Aside from being placed immediately off an expressway, you would end up going round and round, and, if not paying attention, have a great opportunity to go the wrong way down one-way streets. While sleeping in a nice motel was a bonus, the fact that the circle had to be braved the next morning put an unpleasant edge on the experience. We were only almost hit by a car three times, but managed to escape and continue on to the road of potential doom that lay in our future.

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