One bright summer morning with hundreds of drivers looking for “The Way Life Should Be,” I am headed south when I intend to go north. Why? Because, in Scarborough, I’ve ignored my cousin’s directions.
She said, “From where you are, go north on Route 1 to pick up the turnpike to Westbrook. We can meet there at noon at that Thai Bistro.”
I, southbound, long ago passed the northbound turnpike entrance. Why? Because I’m human. I was singing along to “My Way” and crooned right by the green and white Interstate 95 sign. Now I catch my oops and decide to aim for Saco, then take the pike north. I watch the road, many out-of-state plates, the lights – green, yellow, red – all the lanes, and so many vehicles. In heavy traffic, I miss the Saco entrance.