On Friday, John and I are hitting the highway.

I’ve been married for about 13 years, and when I’m on a trip, I’m usually on a trip with Matt. We’ve had some great journeys together, but I have to admit that when I head off on my own, it gives me a little bit of a thrill.

When traveling with another adult – any other adult – there are compromises to be made. Do you stop? How often? Where? What’s on the radio? How fast do you go? How fast are you comfortable with someone else going? This is nothing against Matt or anyone else I’ve ever taken a car trip with. It’s just that we all have a different pace and different taste. A car trip is often a long series of compromises.

With just John, the going is easy. We both like listening to Harry Potter on CD. We agree that frequent snacks are a good idea. We tell stories that we both think are funny. He’s a very companionable companion.

And when actual decisions need to be made, I’m the one making them. The car is a benevolent dictatorship and I am the dictator. John doesn’t mind this, because I am the provider of the aforementioned snacks. Great snacks bring great power and goodwill.

On Friday we’ll have the open road, the Order of the Phoenix on CD, some honey crisp apples and a fresh bag of goldfish.

Getting there is half the fun.