Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Earl and I drove to Grand Rapids, Michigan, yesterday to have dinner with his grandson and the grandson’s wife. We came back a couple hours ago, having had a wonderful meal and even more wonderful conversation. The guest bedroom offered fine accommodations too. We weren’t gone 24 hours, but it felt as if we had checked out of the rat race.

When we’re at home, Earl has at least one radio and one television on at all times so as not to miss a single tick in the stock market or the truth according to various talking heads. Our phones ring regularly and the whir of lawn mowers and deck blowers is often heard in the background.

We left all that behind us. On the way to Grand Rapids, we listened to a baseball game, but Earl doesn’t consider baseball part of the above-mentioned rat race. To him it’s as important as breathing. On the way back, he did a crossword puzzle while I drove. The radio slept.

I remember when Huntley and Brinkley offered their view of the day’s activities in a mere fifteen minutes. Now we have wall-to-wall coverage; and, to accomplish that, stories are expanded, repeated, embellished, and updated over and over. During our mini-trip, the stock market took a minor dive, Baghdad took another assault, and the rest of the world survived without our learning about it in real time.

I think I’d like to check out more often.