Sing it, Elmore. Sing it.

You know, this song was written as a metaphor but (by account) was inspired by actual weather. What it has to do with this trip back to Florida is just about the same.



It has rained virtually every day on this drive. I won't necessarily die from a lack of sunshine, but I have to say that sitting in this hotel lobby in Savannah, Georgia (listening to the rain) I've started to wonder if it's following us.

Poor Jord did something to her hip Sunday and is limping like a senior citizen and after 1100 miles of driving and rolling into Macon, Georgia, something spaced out in the GTI. Dash lights, rough running and a refusal to restart.

We're now at the mercy of a local VW shop and to add insult to injury, we're now flogging a Toyota drone-mobile the rest of the way to Florida. We'll get the full damage report from the shop this morning but we're moving on. 

Now that the bad news is out of the way, here's the good news;

• Jord thinks her hip is starting to feel a little better.
• The car didn't lobotomize itself in BFE Illinois (fundamentalist farmer country), or in eastern Tennessee coming out of the mountains in the rain, surrounded by meth-stoked truckers and ridge-running locals.
• We were (just) able to to get into a rental car before Macon rolled up the streets for the night and made it to our reservation in Savannah.
• In about 20 minutes I'll be staring down the barrel of a custom-made omelette
• We should be over the last state border and lounging in Florida tonight.

I reckon this will be the first track on the playlist when we head out;