Life is taking on a different sort of pace as we empty out the nest.  There is still one more week before we load up the trailer with our youngest and all her worldly possessions (minus the ones I'm sure will still occupy a good portion of our home).  The next week is her time to gather it all together, add a few more "necessities", and say her good-byes to all that is familiar to her now.
Tonight was one of those nights that became a logistical challenge of time and vehicles.  She needed to pick up a used futon and dorm frig from a friend that had them for sale on the southwest end of the county.  She also wanted to be at another friend's house for the evening on the southeast end of the county.  I wanted to be at a book signing on the northeast end of the county.  We wanted it all to happen in under two hours.
The first stop was for the futon.  After removing the legs and sliding it in the back of the Ford Explorer, we needed a couple more inches to get the door closed.  Both front seats were readjusted, a little push, a few bungee cords, and we were ready to roll.

My daughter took the wheel on the way to her friend's house.  We safely navigated into the driveway.  I took her seat from there.  Now, she normally has the seat slightly closer to the wheel than I do.  She drove to the futon friend's house so the seat had already been closer than I sit, now it was an additional two or so inches up with the seat fully erect.  The Ford logo of the air bag was staring square at me.  Too close for comfort, but nothing I could do about it.  I had to head north, get on the Lake Freeway, and follow the Lake Michigan shore line if I was going to make the book lecture in time.
I am accustomed to mirror driving with my work truck, so this was not a problem.  Sitting with bent knees and straight back was.  Fortunately, the area of town that I was heading to was very near the university she will be heading to next week, so large vehicles filled with furniture are fairly normal.
As luck should have it, a parking spot opened up just across from the bookstore as I pulled up (with 15 minutes to spare).  I was able to pull straight in to a spot with no risk of someone parking my ample sized, vision obstructed vehicle in too tightly.  
I had enough time to purchase a book and even read the first chapter before the lecture got under way.  If you have read any Michael Perry books, you know that he has a fine sense of humor with back road wisdom attached.  These are the kind of people I seek out to entertain me.  I was not disappointed.
Being raised Lutheran in a small town, I often choose the furthest seat from the front as is comfortable when presented with an unknown crowd.  There was already plenty of people when I got to the east side bookstore, so the back was my home.  I couldn't always see well, but I could hear just fine.  Michael Perry not only writes well, but he also tells a pretty good tale in a captivating fashion.  He was on Michael Feldman's "What Do You Know" this weekend.  You can listen to the broadcast in archives on Wisconsin Public Radio to hear what I am trying to convey.
When all was done, the back seat proved to be to my advantage as this put me closer to the front of the line for the book signing.  Perry's first book was Population 451.  My friend gave it to me as a birthday gift, and I have shared it with others.  I have read every Perry book since.  My favorite so far has been Coop.  I have high hopes for this one as it talks about the wisdom one can gain by getting to know their neighbors in Visiting Tom.

Perry also plays and sings in his band with the Long beds.  He talked about his gig the next night at the Oconto County Fair. As ironic as it may seem, he was heading for the very same county I grew up in.  The place where I learned small town wisdom, ethics, and how to get along in a bigger world.  It seemed fitting to have made the trip across three-fourths of my present county of residence to hear him speak.  
After I got my book signed, I headed out to my truck to drive home.  I folded myself back into the space behind the wheel.  I said another prayer that the airbag would have no reason to deploy while I challenged it by sitting too close.  As Bob Uecker called the Brewer game, I wound my way home on those streets that have become home to me and my family.  It doesn't matter where life puts you, its what you make of it that counts.  You don't have to live in a small town to know your neighbors and learn something along the way.