On
Saturday I paid a visit to my mom's, a 2.5 hour drive
from here to there. It was a perfectly clear and gorgeous
day. If I weren't in such a hurry I would have stopped
along the way to take some photos. I already had the
title for the photo exhibit: "Life along Highway
7."
I
just did a quick search for photos, and there are some
from the area posted here.
This is a place
I've photographed before, and have always intended to
go back. I love the sign.
Some
might find this route tedious, but there is actually
a lot to see – tree-lined rivers, dirt roads and
snowmobile trails which snake into unseen fields, lots
of swamps with resident beavers, herons and other wildlife,
farms and small towns… in fact, when I'm driving
alone it's hard to keep my eyes on the road.
The
drive went by quickly. The purpose of my trip was to
help fix my mother's iMac. It wasn't set up for email
and Internet access.
My
mother is an intelligent and artful person, but lacks
the technical knowledge (and frankly, the confidence)
necessary to do things like set up a new email account
or call for tech support. (Hi mom! I know you are
reading this, sorry, but it's true!)
She's
always been this way, even before computer were household
items. Take for example, our first microwave. It had
a round dial you physically had to turn. This dial indicated
how long the contents were to be heated. That was fine
for my mom, but later on the unit was upgraded for one
with a digital clock and keypad. I don't think
she ever learned how to use it properly. In fact, my
mother had a tendency to overheat foods because she
was only comfortable with the pre-set settings.
So instead of gently reheating something for 30 seconds
on medium, she'd broil it dry on high for five minutes.
You get the picture. :)
Anyway,
after putzing with the computer and yes, even calling
tech support, I managed to get it all working. After
dinner I drove back home to Ottawa. As much as I love
driving during the day, I'm not so confident at night.
Driving down Hwy 7 is like hurtling down a black hose.
Turning on the high beams is necessary. Collisions with
moose and other related animals are a real concern in
these parts. If you drive a smaller car, the front bumper
would collide with a moose's kneecaps. So guess where
the bulk of the 500 lb body ends up? Yep, through the
windshield and right on top of your head.
Highbeams
illuminate only the short stretch of road in front of
you. And they need to be turned off when another car
is passing. This becomes monotonous. Click on, click
off, click on, click off. Yawn. Repeat repeat repeat.
Add to that a winding road, sliced in half by broken
and unbroken painted lines that swerve and snake ....
this would put a hardened insomniac to sleep.
Taking
photos while driving
in these conditions isn't exactly a smart thing to do.
So I stopped after awhile, or limited it only to when
I pulled up at an intersection.
Writing in my notebook wasn't a great idea either. Later
I discovered I could barely decipher what I wrote, but
what else am I supposed to do if I think of something
I don't want to forget?
I
passed the time listening to the radio. Finkelman's
45's was on CBC. This is one of those love it or
leave it programs. The plays tunes from the 50s and
60s, with lots of pointless chatter in between, i.e.
10 minutes of pontificating about what's wrong with
golf.
It
was during this show that I realized I knew all the
words to the Beach Boys "Fun Fun Fun," and
that it sounds more authentic when you sing it with
your nose plugged. (Go ahead, I know you're sitting
at your desk, but I KNOW YOU WANT TO TRY IT. I'll even
throw in the lyrics.)
I
am also really good at the high-pitched howling notes
at the end of that song, you know, the OoooOOOOooOOOoOOoO.
I do it at full volume.
This
is the other bonus of driving alone. No one needs to
ever be exposed to that. :)
It
was during this show that I realized I knew all the
words to the Beach Boys "Fun Fun Fun," and
that it sounds more authentic when you sing it with
your nose plugged. (Go ahead, I know you're sitting
at your desk, but I KNOW YOU WANT TO TRY IT. I'll even
throw in the 
