Crackheads are not the servers at Cracker Barrel

I love a fun crackhead. I mean where else would you see a man about 9 pm at night running down a parking lot with a large potted plant from Menards (after they closed) in Hoffman Estates. I am pretty sure by the cracked out look and meandering running he wasn't your "clean" plant stealer. We had to much fun trying to figure out if the dude was gonna try and smoke it or sell it to yuppies from drug money. Either way it gave us a laugh at addiction in progress, kinda like the whole Charlie Sheen thing, only I think some people are just wanting him to die.

I think alot of people who have had a complicated raising up have a few of there own favorite crackhead moments. My college roommate, from the south side of Chicago and transplanted to central Illinois, woke me up in the pre-dawn hours to share the news that he saw his first crackwhore on Market Street since he moved to school. It was a special moment that you toast with a box of Pop-Tarts (because it has the word tart and it was in the house) I am not trying to piss-off the crackhead community, but lets be real, they are a great source of humor when they aren't robbing you for crack money.

Road Relationships

So I was reminded recently of one of my favorite type of relationships. They are usually fleeting, but they leave you satisfied. No names are given, but a bond is created. They are like a one night stand sans the STD risk. These are the road buddy relationships. From short in-town errand runs to the long haul road trips I have been fortunate to have a few of these buddies.

I know that few drivers can leave you with a bad case of road rage, but every now and then one will make you happy for a minute with humanity. The other day while coming home from work a very nice driver in a hunter-green Jeep Wrangler coming from the opposite direction flashed his lights letting me know a cop was up ahead clocking. Thank you Jeep Wrangler Dude!

Almost every year we trek south and have a 21 to 23 hour car drive. I love this journey, as you can see things from the road that make you fall in love with this country over, and over again. From the hills of Tennessee to the red clay of Georgia the trip is just breathtakingly gorgeous. However, it is the fellow road buddies who keep you sane with the hour after hour of driving.

Last year we drove the trip with only stops for gas. It was a long drive. Luckily I had two other cars that were on the same highway for a majority of my shift of driving. It was great. We had this little posse cruising into the night. We took turns in who was 1st, 2nd, and 3rd in the line going down the road. We would slow down alerting the next guy if we saw cops (not that we were ever speeding ;), We would wave to one another as we passed each other to take over lead car duties. It was team work at its finest. Thank you Dark Blue Chevy Impala and White Toyota Camry. You made the trip so much easier!