from the passenger seat:

i just got back from an evening up in salt lake watching my friends' band play and eating and hanging out and all around fun-ness. and pretty much the whole drive home was in silence. aside from the music on the stereo. and it made me think how often i have been on silent drives home. how peaceful they are. what appropriate cap stones they are for quality nights with quality friends.

i thought about how it takes a certain level of friendship for me to feel okay sitting in a car and saying nothing. it takes a certain closeness for the silence to avoid being awkward. for it to feel appropriate, even. for me to not feel strange about it, guilty about it, dying to figure out some way to fill it. and it is very nice to have that level of peace with new people.

i also thought about all the times and people i've enjoyed such drives home with in the past. the times i would drive home from picking my dad up at the airport. my mom driving, her and my dad in the front seat talking about adult things that i never bothered to pay attention to. me in the back seat, lying down, staring at the sky out the window, watching as the light posts would glide by. and when they disappeared that meant we were halfway home. the times coming home from shows in chicago with fabian. music blasting from the speakers while i learned how much i loved rap music and what specific kind and what it meant to me to love it. the drives up the canyon with jared listening to jimmy eat world or death cab for cutie. how motion was enough, nothing else had to be said. how the speed and stars and rushing concrete fed the soul. the times coming home from jazz games with kelsy, bellies full of pizza from the pie. a quiet respite after an evening of jovial loudness and camaraderie. even just the short drives home with scott after a late night at work. five minutes of peace and decompression with a brother.

and i thought about how i miss so many of those people and those drives. and how appreciative i am of the ones who are here still. and how, someday, i will miss them too. how some other night i will be riding home in a silent car and i will slowly work my way through the various layers of friends. like an archeologist digging through layers of dirt. the fossils of my social life.

all in all, what i'm trying to say is i am thankful for this night and many others. and i am thankful for everyone that was there with me, for now and ever.

posted by adam @ 12:43 AM