[Photo by David Pu'u. And no, it's not me. It's my friend PJ Clark.]

I'm heading down to Florida for a trade show this coming week. I'm going to try to post to the blog anyway, but I can't promise it will happen...

Turns out the company signed me up at the last minute and couldn't get me a flight. They were quite apologetic, but I told them I didn't mind. And I really don't! I'd rather drive!

A six-hour drive may seem a bit nuts, but I think it's better than flying. It's not a fear thing for me. Believe it or not, it's a convenience thing.

If it were a fourteen-hour drive I would have protested. But driving is only about an hour and a half longer than the flight when you add it all up. The drive to the airport, the wait at the airport, the flight, the drive to the hotel... That's four and a half hours right there, easily.

I'd rather take my time driving. I can head out whenever I'm ready, I don't have to worry about packing carefully, and I can take my time on the trip. I can stop and see the sights. I can talk to friends and family on my cell phone. I can stop and eat when I need to, and I can choose anything from a salad to a steak dinner.

Plus it's a nice long stretch to myself, to relax and unwind. Can anyone honestly say that about a plane flight?

And as for that eccentricity, there's one more thing driving does for me that flying can't: having my car with me gives me the illusion of freedom.

Could I really just get up and leave the show? Not without getting fired. Like I said, it's the illusion of freedom. Or maybe it's a real freedom that I would not choose to exercise short of disaster. Either way, I'll feel better knowing that my car is there--the American symbol of independence. And I drive a Jeep, no less!

I'm not going anywhere near the beach, but I might even pack up my surfboard--or maybe my boogie board--just to complete the fantasy. If I have to spend a week landlocked in a hotel, I can at least daydream on the way there.