Drivin'

We did a lot.




Just cruising around, visiting all the small towns,
sunroof open, windows down, tunes on the radio.



I like driving around.



Really I do.



I like driving on the 401.



I always thought I could be a trucker.



Long haul.





But driving in a truck is different than rocking it in a car,
or van, as the case may be.



This trip, however,
nobody seemed to know the rules of the 401.



You know,
if you are driving in the very left lane,
and someone comes up so close they can see what radio station you're listening to,
you maybe should move over.



Not this trip.



I can not tell you how many vehicles I passed by going into the VERY far right lane.



People would just toot along in the left lane, going 100.

Which, yes, is the speed limit.


But only losers drive the speed limit on the 401....



And that causes a lot of "weaving."


I hate weaving.


But I also hate going 100 on the 401.


So I weaved.



And I rocked the weaving.




Other drivers would try it, and get stuck.

In their little sport cars.



Not me, man.


I would weave, and weave,
and always made it back, and kept my speed.



Which was fast.




I shoulda been driving a mustang, instead of a Dodge Caravan.




Oh well.




I'm a rockstar, even in my Caravan.

The driver

Rockin' out.

Self portrait.
Wind making my hair crazy.

My driving position...

This was a playhouse.

A giant ship.


Way cool.

Driving around New York.

The Tattoo?



Yes.


It's mine.




And it's "Heather"


You know.


The Scottish weed?



Not some other Weed.



Which it may look like.



It's not.








That is all.