Life and Yo

I've been on, like, a million and a half road trips. I've driven through brushfires and rainstorms. I've had driving-induced headaches. I've been lost in Las Vegas. I've thrown up. And I've lived through some moments of epic proportions of boredom. If boredom can come in epic proportions. I guess if boredom were epic, it wouldn't be boring.

Either way, never ask my dad about that one road trip to Reno, back when I was ten. It still rankles him to remember how Older Sister and I spit-glued gummy bears to the ceiling of the Tracer.

It's amazing how creative kids can get when boredom reaches not-actually-epic proportions.

Gummy bears aside, boredom tends to occur a lot on road trips. And often that boredom leads to misery. Misery leads to irritation. Irritation leads to anger, and anger leads to dead bodies in the trunk but a little more leg room in the backseat.

I took a day-long road trip a while back with some friends from my ward. We decided to go up north to Idaho for a day of hiking and swimming.

Alas, not long into our trip an accident occurred on the highway. Police and ambulances rushed by. Traffic came to a dead stop. Our cars were effectively parked at Mile 486, stuck in a bumper-to-bumper chain that stretched back who-knew-how-far.

The moment we realized we were stuck in traffic, I automatically braced myself. Traffic is one of the top sources of boredom on road trips.

I began to rifled through my backpack, looking for something that could be used as a weapon lest the chain of boredom progressed to anger. Hmm. Which would be more capable of inflicting damage, sunscreen or a Cosmic Brownie? I was determined to not end up very dead inside the trunk. I'd win the Boredom Games at all costs.

Behold the awesome power of the Cosmic Brownie.

After a few minutes our drivers turned off the engines and we all spilled out of our vehicles to "stretch our legs." "Stretch your legs" is what they called it, but I knew they really meant "fight to the death." My Cosmic Brownie and I were ready. I kept my backpack open so that I could grab it at a moment's notice. I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nobody was getting bored.

My traveling companions were going on walks. They were taking pictures. They were playing Frisbee with the small, excitable boy from the family in the van behind us. They were laughing and talking and generally having a good time.

At first I was surprised. Then I was incredulous. Then I just found myself feeling really, really appreciative. What could have been a very bad experience was shaping up as a once-in-a-lifetime experience. How often do you have a party in the middle of a freeway?

'Cause with traffic stopped in both lanes, people were just chilling in the literal middle of the freeway. And with a boat blasting music and complete strangers walking up to other cars to introduce themselves, it truly was becoming a party.

The longer I sat there, the more serene I felt. It really was a beautiful day. The freeway wound in a mountainous area between two slopes covered in lovely greenness. There was a stream on one side, and wildflowers everywhere, and the most perfect breeze...

We were stuck there for about an hour. Nobody ever got grumpy. Nobody ever complained.

I let this new experience seep into my pores and was wondering how this affected the nature of my existence when one of my pals approached me.

PAL: Yo, how's life?

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: (ponderously) Life is pretty yo.

PAL: ...and that means absolutely nothing.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: No. No, it does not.

We eventually got on the road and when we did, there were no dead bodies in the trunk. Zero. All because of the power of positive attitudes.

I do still think that, if played right, it would be possible to kill somebody with a Cosmic Brownie.