Here’s another non-kinky post. Hopefully it doesn’t disappoint you too much.

My family lives in southern Florida. I live in Atlanta. I prefer to fly down to visit them, but sometimes flights are too expensive, or I’m bringing the dog with me. I’m not putting my dog in air cargo. This year for Thanksgiving I drove down to visit. It was my first ever time driving that far (600 miles) without someone else in the car. Even before my kid was old enough to drive, at least having someone else in the car helps on long drives.

Well, this year I decided to drive. I figured the best times to drive would be the Sunday before Thanksgiving and the Saturday after. Driving down wasn’t that bad, except for Marion County, Florida — where Ocala is. Traffic is always a little bad there, but after I got back in the car following a break in north Gainesville for lunch my GPS said to get off I-75 at the Orange Lake exit. I looked at the map and it said I should take SR-40 all the way across the state and pick up I-95 in Ormond Beach.

“I’m not doing that,” I said to the GPS.

Then I passed a highway sign that said “congestion ahead” and a one-hour drive from where I was to where I needed to get off I-75.

Negatory, good buddy.

So as I’m sitting at a traffic light in rural north-central Florida, I text my daughter. This is our conversation:

Fine, fine. You’re right, kiddo. Ocala is that bad. There’s always traffic in one, if not both, directions, no matter what time I’m driving through it. Oh well.

But hey, I got there, and it only took me ten hours and forty-five minutes.

Hope you had a good Thanksgiving.