Head On

I am flying down the highway with my older son in the car (I remember flying down the interstate with my mother). He despises Radiohead, but he puts it in for me, cranks it loud, and we sit still, motionless, quiet—except for the actions I must take in keeping the car on the road. (It was U2 in the car with my mother, it wasn’t a band I hated, but the experience was so surreal, so slow, and so quiet). He’s demanded information from me; he has to know what’s going on. He makes the decision that he will be coming with me, whether I like it or not....more