<p>hi, this is one of my first essays. I am wondering whether someone could read it and tell me if my personality shows through or if it is interesting. There probably are still lots more changes to be done on this essay, but I just want your opinion about it as it stands. Thanks much.</p>
<p>Interstate 20: A eulogy
Meet my weekend house: Interstate 20. My family goes to Birmingham twice a week for church and more for competitions, libraries, and food supplies. The interstate that connects Anniston with Birmingham is the all-mighty I-20. Looking back at my familys eleven years of pilgrimage, the interstate has evolved into something more meaningful than a road spanning across southern United States.
At eleven years old, I was hardly aware that I would be traveling along the same stretch of road for the rest of my high school career. However, I did know that idle time was an unspeakable sin. Therefore, I developed my personal Constitution, an unwritten set of rules that govern how I spend time on these trips. The latest one for me, having undergone many amendments, is as follows: study Algebra I for the first forty-five minutes when the ride is smooth, spot the white stork that stands at the same spot under the Pell City Bridge, and enjoy the scenery for the last fifteen minutes as we cruise into the Magic City. However, this structure is often broken.
Did you see that driver? She was driving, talking on her phone, and eating at the same time! our dad would cry out. At least she is keeping her eyes on the road. You drive and read at the same time! I would say, grinning. I hate long stretches of road. Flat, smooth, and straight sections of I-20 would give my dad a good reason to memorize his Bible verses. No cars, safe stretch of road, why not read? he would say nonchalantly. We worry for him. Stop! My brother and I cried from the back seat. I cannot seem to relax whenever I go on these family trips. Consequences of not concentrating on the road still loomed in the back of my mind from Drivers Education. Our dad switched lanes without signaling. I saw that, assured our dad. No you didnt, corrected a voice beside him.
Miraculously, after eleven years of high speed driving, my dad has accumulated zero accidents, speeding tickets, pullovers, and over three thousand safe driving hours.
No, no, I want to go too, I would plead with my mother whenever she thinks about leaving me behind to study for an exam. I am enchanted. The black ripples of the Coosa River, the lulling rhythm of the road, and the continuation of our quest for special license tags make every trip worthwhile, even if I have a test on Monday. However, it is the night return trips that I cherish. Incidents such as forest fires, two lane accidents on Death Valley, and Talladega 500 race days cause curious drivers to slow to catch the excitement. These events lay the foundation for miles and miles of angry and sleepy drivers stuck on the loneliest part of the corridor. Having responded to dads gentle patting on my leg, I wake to blurred redness of taillights and hundreds of headlights behind us. It seems that a thousand watt spotlight is shining on me. Where am I going to college? What major am I taking? These are two roadblocks that I must eventually meet and supplant. However, through memorable car rides with my family, I am assured that I will travel to college as a structured, observant, and inquisitive person. Now, I wonder how long it will take to get home? Theres no place like(college name) Theres no place like (college name) .</p>