Sunday, April 19, 2009

Weirdward Experiences

It is thirty miles from Holbrook to St. Johns, Arizona. Late one night, when I was very young, my father was driving his car from Holbrook, home to St. Johns. The roads at that time were very bad and the cars were 1950s cars, so you can imagine that the trip took considerably more time back then, than it does now. On that trip, my father and mother were talking to each other and suddenly they looked up and they were driving into St. Johns. The whole trip had taken a remarkable fifteen minutes on the clock.

Some years later, I was driving the road from Albuquerque to Gallup, New Mexico. I remember driving along the road towards Grants, when the next thing we knew we were driving into Gallup. No time seems to have passed on the clock.

This same experience has happened several times since. I recall having the experience on various occasions. I cannot remember driving between the various locations and no one in the car can remember the trip either.

This is something to ponder.

4 comments:

  1. 30 miles in 15 minutes? Sounds like my grandpa.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kaitlyn has the same thing happen to her at night. Sometimes she insists that she never sleeps. To her, no time passes. She is there in her bed with her eyes open (thinking of stories) and the next thing she knows it is morning time. We explain to her that she's been asleep and she stoutly denies it.

    Hopefully the same thing isn't happening to you on your drives...

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think the black helicopters over St. Johns are producing a localized wormhole that sucks drivers into one end and deposits them out the other. In the interim, space aliens conduct experiments on the inhabitants in the car.

    That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. But that's just the story they implanted and want you to believe Euripides! The truth is much more benign. I'm sure no one really wants me to explain the psychology behind the effect (seemingly time loss), so I won't. :)

    ReplyDelete