Drive

The course of true love never did run smooth. That’s why I drive an SUV.

Then there are those who drive a Ferrari or a Lamborghini. Talk about fast love.

There are those who drive a station wagon, or even a Winnebago. They’re dying to fill up the back with bags of groceries and baby carriages.

Of course there are the taxis, cruising around the city for their next pick-up, a paying customer whom they can engage, perhaps even in small talk, for several minutes, maybe even a few hours.

Some go on car-pool—several people along for the ride, but still they get off one after the other.

There are also those who love by the bus-load. (No wonder buses have become the favorite pulpits for evangelists.)

I’m on a joy-ride on the highway of love. One of these days I’m going to be flagged down and caught. And the ticket will read: “Driving without a license.”