Interstate 35

Saturday I got off work at 2:15 (a.m.) and drove to San Antonio to spend some time with a good friend that I haven't seen in a while (Chris Morgan, very cool guy). We went to the All-American game at the Alamodome and had good times. While driving there and back I was struck by something, not a brick or a large rock, but the realization of how attatched my life has been to the congested strip of asphalt known as Interstate 35.

I have often joked that my life revolves around it. The truth is I have spent all but the first 3 years of my life living in counties along 35 (mostly Bell County). All but 6 of those years were spent living within 2 miles of the interstate, which means for most of my life the sounds of thousands of cars and semi-trucks going somewhere else have been a constant soundtrack.

I think that everyone has landmarks, places or things that tie their lives together. Many of my memories will inevitably be linked with 35, I have spent countless thousands of hours suspended inches above the highway moving at speeds of 0 to 90 miles per hour. I have seen every building, resturant, house and field along the interstate from San Antonio to Dallas-Fort Worth countless hundreds of times.

I guess there is no deep philosphical point to what I am saying, I am simply discussing the fact that something that is another inanimate object to one person, might be an importiant life symbol to others. Wherever I go in life, when I see an interstate sign with the number 35 on the front, I will be reminded of home, of friends and family, of the many countless memories I have accumulated in a life along a busy highway.