And while it sounds tempting I couldn't help remembering doing this in late 1969 for a businessman that had taken a job in Orlando. The car was in the Boston area and to this day I think the businessman that owned the car wanted me to provide adult supervision for his two idiot sons, one of which was probably an LSD burnout. Both were real potheads.
A couple hours after starting out I took the wheel and never left it until we arrived at their new home in Orlando. When I arrived I walked past everyone into the first bedroom sprawled out on the first bed I came to and went out like a light for the next 12 hours or so.
I had been in a curious state for the past 24 hours being jammed between a massive adrenaline dump and trying to stay calm and serene because Cheech and Chong, my travel partners, were constantly smoking pot for the whole ride down.
Back 54 years ago pot was big criminal offense and if I had been stopped it would have taken one whiff for the cop to cart the whole push of us off to jail and throw away the key. It meant jail time up north and pretty serious prison time in the south.
The country was going through the "Marijuana...teenaged killer'' phase at the time and the older generation was terrified of the thought of their kids getting addicted to it.
Of course, in this day and age the small number of people that still believe that crap are sometimes have people tease them by referring to 'pot needles'.
Anyway, in Georgia I was tailed by a Georgia trooper for about an entire hour. I don't recall if I was on I-95 or US 301 for this as I was just driving on and on terrified of being stopped. I do remember having to pull over after the cop peeled off and figure out where the hell we were. I think we had just crossed the border into Florida but 54 years later I am not too sure. I-95 had unfinished spots back then and I had to peel off and negotiate secondary roads in places.
Secondary roads were a pain in the ass because you'd sometimes go through cities, towns and small burgs teeming with stop signs, stop lights, speed traps, jaywalkers out of nowhere. Occasionally some kind of jack-in-the-box would pop open out of nowhere.
In the pre A/C days it wasn't too bad in the summer. You kept the windows down and could hear what was going on outside. If you heard 'Pop goes the weasel' you could at least brace yourself. In the winter you had to be ready for anything.
Ahh, yes. Then there was the old 'last gas' trick. You'd see a sign that said "Last gas for 375 miles" so you'd pull in and gas up only to find another station 8 blocks further down the road selling gas at about a quarter a gallon cheaper.
When that happened you'd want to drive the 8 blocks back, jam the hose nozzle open and throw a lighted match at it hear the satisfying 'whoosh!' as you gave the greedy little bastard just what he deserved.
These days you just get on the Interstate and put your brain on autopilot.
I just remember that I had to be the driver, navigator, crew chief and referee between the two brothers. Back then it was paper maps and asking at the gas station what roads were open, clear and where the speed traps were open for business.
Today it's "Hey, Google! Take me to Outer Manchuria."
"To Outer Manchuria take your next right and go down Ferry Street to the Inner Slobovian Ferry...."
Still, looking back on it what I should have done was bail out the instant I figured out what I was in for and hitched a ride home. I figure it would have been a 20 mile hitch and I'd have been home (and safe) in under an hour.
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