You know...it's been a while.
A good long while. Since back in the I-40 and I-25 days.
Many years past.
Yes, today I had a moment of cellular memory.
We had an especially windy day in the Bay Area.
Sure, people talk about it being windy here, but they don't know from wind. They don't know about that gap between the Sandias and Manzanos channeling the wind, giving it force, and knocking you down in the parking lot.
They don't know about tumbleweeds the size of a small house bouncing joyfully across the road with a velocity relatively equal to an overloaded Mack Truck coming out of the Glorieta Pass, air brakes screaming.
No, they don't know.
But today came close.
As I drove home down 280 in the howling wind, my hands and arms moved without me. Took up the familiar position of about a 27 and a half degree angle turn on the steering wheel.
Turning into the wind in order to keep the car between the white lines.
And then...that moment when going under the overpass and wooop, for half a second you get a wind break and steer, steer, steer to keep from broadsiding the person next to you then you are out of the wind break and steer, steer, steer to keep from sliding off in the other direction.
My hands and arms didn't need my brain to tell them what to do. They knew.
Honed and skilled by the unforgiving winds of the New Mexico desert. They knew.
The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind. (aw man! I can't believe I *went there*!)
