Last week, I was heading out of town on one of the 400-series highways. It was a Friday afternoon. Traffic was slow. There were the usual volume holdups and the usual culprits – semis and commuter buses, but mostly cars towing boats, cars towing tent trailers, four-by-fours loaded to the gunwales with camping gear, and lots of RVs. One sported a bumper sticker that kind of summed up the moment.
“Don’t follow me,” it said. “I have no idea where I’m going.”