I am perhaps not the long-distance driver I once was

Over the years, Terry and I have often talked about doing a two-week family road trip out west with the kids. The kind of thing where you cover, like, 3,000 miles over the course of 14 days and hit some of the biggest landmarks on the other side of the Mississippi.

We still talk about doing it with whomever in our family can come, but now I’m not so sure.

We recently drove from Wickliffe to Orlando, a distance of about 1,000 miles. And that was more than enough driving for me, thank you very much.

I discovered my tolerance for long-distance driving has diminished somewhat. This could just be reflective of the fact that I hadn’t done a truly long car trip in a while.

Or it may be that I’m getting old.

Either way, by the end of the second day (we did it over two days), I would much rather have walked those thousand miles than spend one more hour in the driver’s seat. We had to bring two cars, as we were taking Melanie for her 5½-month Disney College Program experience and she’ll need her own transportation while there.

Which meant that while Terry drove her own car, I piloted Mel’s tiny Toyota Prius. It was comfortable enough, though I admit the disco ball on the dashboard and “One Direction fans only” sticker on the side of the car drew a few stares from fellow motorists.

The thing is, I didn’t even have to drive the return trip home like Terry and Jack did. I flew back so that I could get to work without burning more vacation days than necessary.

Still, the thought of driving 2,500+ miles to points far west is somewhat less appealing than it once was.

I have a solution, though: We will rent a private jet. As the family drives to each one of our touristy stops, I will fly ahead in comfort.

You know, to make sure everything is ready once they get there.