I went with her to pick up Little g from camp. It's a camp that has a one to 1 ration of councilors to campers.

It was about a two hour drive and across a state line and off of a rural little numbered route. Lady G drove on the way up and for the most part talked with her grandmother who was sitting in the passenger seat. Her twins: one to my right and the other behind, we didn't talk much.

When we got there we were all offered a printed schedule. I kept refusing to take one. "I'm good, thanks," I would say.

The schedule was for a picnic lunch, guided tour and then a sing-a-long. The twins and I decided that we would be too busy for the sing-a-long.

Part of the going home process for the campers involved collecting their luggage. I was stowing away Little g rather humongous duffle/body bag away when a convertible caught my eye. It looked familiar, it was the same model that the owner of the RE company drives.

The luggage wasn't fitting, I was going to let Lady G worry about space later, so I dropped the bag, and looked around to see the owner walking towards me.

"Tim! What are you doing here?"

"Little g is here. I'm with Lady G," I said as I looked around for her and saw her running towards the owner.

I've never been comfortable when my various worlds collide. I show certain groups of people certain sides of me. Seeing two women, each I've know for over twenty years, hitting it off, worries me a bit but it also brings a little relief. Both of them have seen a side of me nobody else has, my life has been on the line for each of them. Both have said that I have been a rare constant in their lives.

We all had lunch together and walked around as a group for the most part. My presence would confuse the councilors when the introductions began. It would be assumed I was with the owner. I guess it's an easier assumption that the owner would have a younger husband than it is that Lady G has a white boyfriend.

I drove on the way back, Lady G sat behind me, her grandmother still rode in the passenger seat.

"You don't say much do you, Tim?" her grandmother asked.

"No, not much."

She didn't say much after that until she noted everyone else was asleep.

My dad never spoke much while he was driving, the same with the rest of my family. We would travel in our own worlds together in the same car.

I know a lot of folks that don't like driving long distances. I know a lot of folks that think driving twenty minutes is a long drive.

I like driving long distances. I like the quiet. It's a quiet I don't usually afford myself. It's the same quiet I get walking to work but the walk to work is short. Driving puts me in the same frame of mind as a hobby does, where there is just enough physical activity to keep the brain going but the activity isn't enough to occupy the brain fully so all these casual thoughts float in. I get to work things out.

I often wonder why so many people try their darndest to avoid quietness. I wonder what thoughts they are trying to avoid. I wonder why they can't just change the channel of their thoughts when there is something they don't want to deal with at the moment. I wonder if they can't find any thoughts worth having. I wonder if they are more messed up in the head then I think they are.

I wonder how easy I have it.

And then I stop wondering because I don't want to tempt fate.