I think it changed when we had kids. Now driving isn't so much a fun activity in itself, a feeling of freedom and power. Now it's more like confinement in a group therapy session with gnomes. Not that my kids aren't great kids. But being locked up with two little people for ten hours, each hell bent on dominating the universe, is excruciatingly painful. I think I'd rather chew broken glass.

They're wonderful little people, but being couped up in a car with no physical outlet other than poking at each other makes them more insane than children normally are.

But we're on the road anyway - hell bent for leather. It's my brother, or rather my partner's brother, my brother... Well, I've known him since he was a child, so he's my brother too. Anyway, our brother is a US Marine - there's a great story. So he's a US Marine and he's flying in from his ship on Monday. He's been at sea now for nearly six months. What do they do out there all that time? Don't ask - don't tell. Never mind.

So he's at sea for six months and now he's back and we're going to be there to welcome him home. So today we've loaded the family into the suburban assault vehicle and are heading north on I95 towards North Carolina for our rendez-vous with Nick - the brother. As you read these words just remember how lucky you are to not be driving right now. Driving really sucks. But I'd do anything for the Nick-dog.