It'll be okay Mom...Mom, it'll be okay...Mo..MOM, I'll take care of it. Relax, we'll be fine.

What do you mean she can’t get out of that damn place until 2:25(pm) tomorrow!!?

Dad shouted after learning my sister’s flight had just been cancelled. It was 10:30pm, and she had called from the Charlotte airport after arriving from San Diego. Apparently “weather” reasons entitle an airline to provide no reimbursement, no compensation, and no guarantees when they strand you in the middle of nowhere.

There’s no reason for her to be stuck in that damn place for half a day. If we leave right now, we can be home by 8:00 tomorrow morning.
Kent, I can’t stay up with you all night.
That’s fine. Michael* and I can do it.
Mike shoots his sister a helpless, protesting look, "oh man...why do I always get stuck with the crappy jobs? Where's a benevolent/charitable brother when you need one.?"
Christie, we’re coming to get you, we should be at the airport by 3:00(am).
Kent, we need to talk about this first.
One the phone again,
Your mom says we need to "talk" about it first, but we are coming to get you. Sit tight.
After his refusal to listen to my mom’s worried pleas, Dad prepared to take off. In theory, 200 miles should have been easy, but we had a few complications.

1. We had never driven to Charlotte.
2. It was a dark, moonless night.
3. It was foggy.
4. We had never been to the Charlotte airport.

Too angry to care and too angry too think, dad was out the door by 11:30. I printed off some instructions to the airport, grabbed my compass, and jumped in the car. Considering the above conditions, I suggested we take the 240-mile interstate route rather than the 182-mile back-road route. Unconvinced and insistant that the back-roads could be easily navigated, dad quickly vetoed my suggestion.

It turns out that back-roads have few signs. It turns out that foggy nights make vital junctions impossible to find. It turns out I was right about everything. Nevertheless, no real man surrenders so easily. We recacluated our trajectory and pressed on. At 3:10am, my sister called.

Are you guys getting close?
You bet. We’re in Charlotte and will be at the airport in about 10 minutes.
Dad reads off the google map instructions.
W Church Street then Tyron road…W Church Street then Tyron road...

Searching intently for these streets we drove over the interstate and unwittingly headed north, the city fadding in the background. Ten miles later, we had to accept reality - we had no clue as to where we were. My dad was starting to show signs of mental fatigue.** We stopped at a Wal-Mart to get directsions. A kind stocker with thick Nawth Carolahnah accent showed us where we were on our map and told us where to go. Back on the main road, we knew what streets to look for but were clueless as to which direction to head. Now dad was beginning to lose it.

SHIT…shit…where the hell are we?
Now, I was back as navigator.
Turn around.
What!?
We’re going the wrong way. You need to turn around.
Are you sure?
Of course not. We’re in freaking North Carolina. But I’m pretty sure we need to go back the way we came. My compass says the same thing.
Oh hell...
Dad reluctantly flips a U-turn.
Well we know what streets to look for, that will tell us where we need to go.

The problem with my compass is that I hadn’t used it in ten years. I wasn’t sure if RED meant North or South, so I crossed my fingers and placed a conjecture with the stars.

Dad, we’re headed southwest. That’s what we want.

Our map ended just north of the Wal-Mart, i.e. recongnizable roads = right direction, unrecognizable roads = wrong direction. We found the first road on the map, but not the second or the third or the forth.

Shit shit shit…
Dad, I still think we’re headed the right way. Let's go just a little further.

The interstate sign appeared; the voices in my head sang in unison,

Haalllll-eluiah!!!!

For the first time in my life. My sense of direction came through. It was now 4:00am, and my sister called again.

Um, where are you?
Heh heh heh, in just about the same spot we were the ast time you called.

Ten minutes and one u-turn later, we arrived - tired, frustrated, and completely caffeine-free.***

Lesson 1: You can’t fight angry fathers. You can only tag along, and try to prevent them from further endangering themselves.
Lesson 2: Signs that say “To Charlotte Airport” are a myth.
Lesson 3: Google-map-based Interstate Exits will lead you to Raleigh.
Lesson 4: The Red arrow = North. Write it down this time.
Lesson 5: If your mom gives you a bag of "food and drinks" make sure you check before you leave because it most likely contains sprite, apple juice, and two oranges - the pefect comestibles for a maddened all-night drive into the dark unknown.

*Dad is one of the three people on this planet who is allowed to call me "Michael."
**a side effect of being angry and intense for three hours straight. Who'd a thunk?
***Dad had no interest in stopping for anything. Rather than find a Disel gas station with acceptable prices. He took the 7 gallon gas can and tanked up en route.