Confinement in tight spaces for long spans with other humans is, at the same time, most definitely not what God envisioned for the race and very instructive.
Instructive at least in the sense that you learn much about yourself: what annoys you, what smells are most offensive, which family member breaks first in tight spaces for long spans.
But, if you’re observant, you can learn some other things, too.
Northern Illinois is full of corn fields and wind turbine farms, responsible, one must presume, for much human ocular boredom syndrome (H.O.B.S. — “there’s not much to look at, here…”), for droves of farmers aimlessly shuffling through the infinite stalks of corn after having been rendered catatonic by the ultra-low-frequency electrical hum of sky-scraping wind turbines, for scores of formerly living birds who happened into the path of a truck-length turbine blade, and for minivans full of frazzled families thwarted by agrarian vistas in their attempts to distract one another with the “ABC Game.”
After several hours of driving, I envied the birds, in a sense, who at least were not confined in tight spaces with anything forĀ any length of time.
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