The Feminists: What An Hour Really Feels Like

What shall we do today guys? How about another day of driving across Ontario? Sounds good! So here we are, bombing along the highway at 120km/h. Well, that’s a guess. The spedometer conked out around day 3. Yup, lotsa trees in northern Ontario. We drove along the coast of Lake Superior for awhile. That was nice. It’s a really big blue lake, for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of driving beside it hour after hour after hour.
It occurs to me that my world has been reduced to 2 duffel bags, my keyboards, and this van. I can hold in my mind the sum of my worldly possessions. I won’t be stumbling across extra stuff and saying “Hey! I forgot I owned that!”
We drive, we stop and make food when we’re hungry. We’ve had some tasty meals in gorgeous surroundings. We listen to music, read, write, and talk. Sometimes we watch a movie, or Grief and Zobac will play video games. This is broken up periodically by playing rock and roll and sleeping in the van. This is Canada, people. There’s a lot more driving than playing because there’s a lot of unpopulated (by humans) wilderness to drive through. Without a connection to the outside world of mass media, time pressure, consumer pressure, and the stress of a job the days begin to lengthen. It’s amazing to remember what an hour really feels like when you aren’t rushing against the clock.