I've spent a lot of time on the road lately. Well, not literally. I don't drink that much. At least not since last Thursday.

But I have spent a lot of time on freeways driving hither and yon. Hither is nice, but yon doesn't have a decent drive-thru coffee stand, so you might as well go ahead and scratch it off your travel itinerary.

Second, there are more cars again. For awhile there, everyone was in an SUV or a pickup truck and whenever I'd head out in my Honda Accord, I'd have to screw in the little orange bicycle flag just so people could see me coming. "I'm down here! Please don't squish me like a bug."

Third, people in this country really are as fat as they appear on TV. I thought television added fifteen pounds, but that must just be if you wear a size 2. Because at rest stops everywhere, I saw people waddling and wheeling their way to the bathrooms. Really, if your legs buckle when they try to hold up your body weight, instead of buying a Hoverround, maybe you should invest in a personal trainer and a dietary counselor. Think of it as preventive medicine. Because you're never going to be able to fit ten boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts into the Toyota Prius you'll have to buy when gas reaches $5.00 a gallon.

Fourth, deer never cross at deer crossing signs. It's their idea of irony, I guess. They find the signs and then race down the side of the road until they're six or seven miles away, just far enough that you've let up your guard. Personally, I think they're in cahoots with the American Academy of Cardiologists. Nothing gets my blood pressure up like a close encounter of the black-tailed kind.

Fifth, no matter how many radio stations you hear in the course of 500 miles, they all fit into one of five categories: right wing loonies screaming at people and calling them names, left wing talk show hosts trying to scream at people and call them names but feeling really guilty about doing it, country music, oldies, or some kind of combination rap and pop music that you immediately flip past if you're over 40 because you're afraid it might lead to Alzheimer's or bleeding ulcers.

And the last thing I learned from my two weeks on the road -- my ass is no longer where it needs to be to cushion me from bumps and potholes. Somehow it's shifted over to the sides of my body. If I wanted a padded ride, I either have to sit one one hip, facing the passenger seat or strap a pillow to my backside. Which makes me waddle when I stop at rest stops.

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