The floating car

I first saw the floating car when I was three, or four. We were driving into town, across the Lake Taneycomo Bridge. I think it was my sister who first saw the car, telling me to "Look Lance!" as it cruised silently down Taneycomo, a slow, spreading, perfect wake forming behind, so…graceful and beautiful and cool, it was like nothing I’d ever seen. Overwhelming. I was stunned when I saw it.

I must have stared at the floating car until our car moved us out of view, and I must have talked about it for a long time afterward, as those are behaviors I exhibit to this day concerning new, amazing phenomena. I always hoped we’d see the car when traveling over the bridge. Every once in awhile, for several more years, I did see the car again, tilting and swanlike, leisurely lolling along, its passengers, The-Luckiest-People-in-the-World. Whenever I saw that car, my love for it grew. Yes the car, but not the car, too, more the experience, the amazement, still, after seeing it many more times. That is what I loved.

The impossible happening before my very eyes. That is what I loved about the car, and that is still what I love about life, about experience.