Yes , There is a Father Road

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The Father Road: America’s First Coast‑to‑Coast Highway

After writing about Route 66 — the famous Mother Road — in honor of its 100th anniversary, I stumbled onto something I’d never heard of before: the Father Road. And once I learned what it was, I knew it deserved its own post. Before Route 66 ever rolled across the American Southwest, there was another road that connected the country from coast to coast and changed the way Americans traveled. Meet the Lincoln Highway, the original transcontinental highway and the true “Father Road” of America.

Most people have never heard of it, but without the Father Road, there would be no Mother Road at all.

Before Route 66, There Was the Lincoln Highway

The Lincoln Highway was established in 1913, making it the very first road to stretch all the way across the United States. It ran from Times Square in New York City to Lincoln Park in San Francisco, covering roughly 3,400 miles.

At a time when most roads were still dirt or gravel, the idea of driving from coast to coast sounded like something out of a dream. But the Lincoln Highway made it possible. It gave Americans their first taste of long‑distance automobile travel and stitched the country together in a brand‑new way.

If Route 66 is the Mother Road, the Lincoln Highway is absolutely the Father Road — older, steadier, and the one who paved the way (literally) for everything that followed.

The beginning of the Father Road, aka Lincoln Highway , in Times Square

A Road Built on Ambition and Optimism

Unlike modern highways, the Lincoln Highway wasn’t created by the government. It was the brainchild of early automobile pioneers who believed the future belonged to the car. They wanted a single, continuous route that would encourage Americans to explore their own country.

Towns along the proposed route fought to be included. Being on the Lincoln Highway meant travelers, tourists, and money — a lifeline for small communities.

The road passed through:

  • New York
  • New Jersey
  • Pennsylvania
  • Ohio
  • Indiana
  • Illinois
  • Iowa
  • Nebraska
  • Wyoming
  • Utah
  • Nevada
  • California

It was a true coast‑to‑coast adventure.

📍 Map of the Lincoln Highway

Lincoln Highway to Donner Pass

What the Father Road Left Behind

Much of the original Lincoln Highway eventually became U.S. Route 30, though pieces of the old road still exist — sometimes marked, sometimes forgotten, sometimes hiding in plain sight.

Its legacy is enormous:

  • It inspired the idea of national highways
  • It encouraged tourism and cross‑country travel
  • It helped shape the American love affair with the open road

Without the Father Road, there would be no Mother Road

 

Why the Father Road Belongs Beside Route 66

Route 66 gets the neon lights, the diners, the postcards, and the nostalgia.
The Lincoln Highway gets the origin story — the first bold attempt to connect America by car.

If Route 66 is the road we remember, the Lincoln Highway is the road that made everything possible.

And now that I know about it, I think it deserves its own moment in the spotlight.

Lincoln Highway – brick section – Nebraska

 

Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

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Two cats mid‑wrestle on the carpet, frozen in a moment of chaotic sibling energy.

Agents of Chaos

Today’s post is brought to you by Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

Welcome to my life.
Please note: this really happened, and no cats were harmed in the chronicling of this post — though one was forcibly evicted from a bathtub and another contributed to the general unraveling of my sanity.

The Night the Gremlins Took Over

A Promising Start

I started the night so well. Fitbit proudly informed me I’d clocked 51 whole minutes of deep sleep — practically a luxury spa retreat by my standards — and I thought, Yes. Tonight is the night. I’m finally going to sleep like a human being instead of a haunted scarecrow.

Naturally, that’s when everything went straight to hell in a handbasket.

The Mysterious 2 A.M. Knock

Around 2 a.m., I was jolted awake by a rhythmic knocking sound. Not a random thump. Not a creak. A pattern. The kind of noise that makes you sit up and think, “Well, that’s not good.”

I still have no idea what it was. It didn’t repeat, didn’t reveal itself, and wasn’t attached to any cat‑related crime scene. Just unexplained knocking and then poof — gone.

At first, I thought it was outside — the windows were open — but then I realized neither cat was in the bedroom. That’s when the “responsible pet parent” alarm went off.

The Innocent Cats (Allegedly)

I got up to check on them, expecting to find at least one of them mid‑shenanigan.

Nope.

Balboa was curled up on the couch looking like a Renaissance painting of a peaceful angel. Banner looked suspiciously innocent, which is how I knew he’d probably just finished a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.

Since I was already up, I figured I’d go to the bathroom and then try to salvage the rest of the night.

The Bathroom Takeover

That’s when the gremlins took over.

Banner marched into the tub like he was claiming new territory and refused to get out. Balboa got up and started following me around like a tiny furry shadow.

I tried sitting in a chair, hoping Banner would get bored of lying in the tub without an audience, but no — he was committed to the bit.

Eventually, I had to turn the water on to evict him. He gave me the betrayed look of a Victorian orphan in a Dickens novel, but he left. I shut the door behind him like I was sealing off a crime scene.

The Failed Return to Sleep

Back to bed I went… or tried to.

By then, I was fully awake, my nose was running, and my brain had rebooted into “middle‑of‑the‑night chaos mode.” I had just settled when Balboa hopped onto the bed.

Normally fine. Except he refused to settle down. He did the whole “walk in circles, flop dramatically, get up again, repeat” routine.

The Longest Night

This continued for the rest of the night — a tag‑team of feline interruptions, sniffles, and the slow unraveling of my sanity.

And the knocking? Still unexplained. I’m choosing to believe it was either a ghost with poor timing or the universe tapping out Morse code for “good luck.”

A Nap Is My Destiny

A nap is absolutely in my future. Possibly my destiny.

P.S.

If you’re curious why cats get the midnight zoomies or suddenly claim the bathtub as sovereign territory, my feed is filled with articles that offer an explanation, Sadly I think most of them are making it up as they go along.

And In case you missed it here’s a a brief retospective of my chaotic life with cats Kitty Shenanigans or Life with 2 Cats

 

 

Trying Out Car‑Free Living in Massachusetts

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Public transit bus on a quiet road surrounded by trees.

Trying Out Car‑Free Living in Massachusetts

For most of my adult life, having a car was just… normal. It sat in the driveway, ready for short errands, grocery runs, and the occasional appointment. But over the past year, the math stopped making sense. Between rising medical co‑pays, insurance rates that seem to go up just because they can, and Massachusetts’ infamous excise tax, I found myself paying more to own the car than I ever spent to drive it.

I was only putting a couple thousand miles a year on the odometer. A few trips to the store. A doctor’s appointment here and there. Nothing that justified the monthly insurance bill, the gas, the maintenance, the taxes, and the general “just in case” expense of keeping a vehicle I barely used.

And now that I’m retired, we can scratch the commuting part right off the list. Suddenly the car feels far less necessary. What used to be a “must‑have” has turned into an expensive convenience.

So I made a decision:
I turned in my car.

Not lost it.
Not had it taken away.
I chose to let it go.

And once I said it out loud, the reactions came pouring in.

Friends, neighbors, and even a few casual acquaintances had opinions — strong ones. Some thought it was smart. Others thought I was out of my mind. Joe told me about a woman he knows who ditched her car years ago and now uses Uber for everything. According to her, she saves a fortune and never has to worry about repairs, inspections, or surprise breakdowns. That story stuck with me.

So here I am, trying out car‑free living in Massachusetts to see how it goes.

Getting Around Without a Car

Massachusetts isn’t exactly known for smooth, seamless public transit, but it does have options — you just have to know where to look.
Don’t believe me? Just read my earlier post,
“Boston Transit – First in the Nation, Last to Arrive”
and you’ll see exactly what I mean.

Cabs, Uber, and Lyft

These are the obvious choices. They’re not cheap, but they’re reliable, and for short trips they’re still far less expensive than owning a car I barely used.

Dial‑A‑Ride

This one has already become a favorite. For $3.00 round‑trip, Dial‑A‑Ride will take me to the store and pick me up again. They send a text when the driver is on the way, and another when they’re one minute out. There’s a 15‑minute pickup window, but you can text “ETA” and get an instant update telling you exactly where you fall in that window. It’s surprisingly efficient and takes a lot of the guesswork out of waiting.

GATRA Bus System

The bus literally picks up on my corner and goes straight to Hannaford. Right now, the buses are free until June 30. After that, we’ll see if the politicians decide to renew the program. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic.

Delivery Services

Between Hannaford To Go, DoorDash, and Instacart, Uber eats, etc.  I can get groceries and essentials without needing to leave the house. It’s not something I want to rely on all the time, but it’s a great backup.

What About Travel?

Honestly, the only time I’d really need a car is if I start traveling again. And if that happens, I won’t be driving around Massachusetts — I’ll be renting a car somewhere far away, preferably somewhere warm, sunny, and blissfully free of excise taxes.

If I’m in a tropical paradise, I’m not bringing a Massachusetts car with me. I’ll rent one at the airport like everyone else.

And for the occasional local need, there’s the new kid on the block: Flexcar. It’s expensive, yes, but it doesn’t lock you into a long‑term lease or a car payment. Insurance is included, so there are no surprise bills. It’s a “use it when you need it” option, and that flexibility is worth something.

My First Dial‑A‑Ride Experience

I’ll admit, I was nervous the first time I scheduled a Dial‑A‑Ride trip. It felt strange to plan ahead for something I used to do on autopilot. But the process was easier than I expected. I called, booked the time, and waited.

The van pulled up right on schedule. The driver was friendly, the ride was smooth, and for the first time since turning in my car, I felt a little spark of confidence. Maybe this really can work.

 

So What’s Next?

Car‑free doesn’t mean light‑traveling. Some days I’m my own pack mule.

I’m not declaring myself permanently car‑free. This is an experiment — a practical, budget‑friendly, sanity‑preserving experiment. I’m learning as I go, adjusting where I need to, and discovering that life without a car isn’t the catastrophe some people imagine.

It’s different.
It takes planning.
But it’s doable.

And who knows?

Maybe this will be the start of a whole new chapter.

 

 

 

 

My Use-It-Up Dinner of Chicken Piccata

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Chicken piccata in a skillet waiting to be served

Back to Basics: My Makeshift Chicken Piccata

I haven’t shared a recipe in a while. It’s not because I haven’t been cooking — I have — but nothing new has been coming out of my kitchen lately. I’ve been in one of those same old, same old phases. I always fall into that after a couple of kitchen failures. When something flops, I retreat to my old standbys for comfort.

A Couple of Cookie Disasters

Recently I had two cookie mishaps in a row.
The first one was my fault — I misread the recipe. The second one? The only explanation I can come up with is that my oven temperature was off. What should have been soft, fluffy, cake‑like molasses cookies came out flat as a pancake. The best way to describe them is a thin, chewy ginger snap.

I’ve got an oven thermometer on the way, so hopefully that mystery gets solved soon. In the meantime, I’ve been keeping things pretty basic.

The Chicken Broth and Lemon Situation

Tonight I found myself staring at a nearly full box of chicken broth and two lemons that were about to give up on life. I needed to use them — but I didn’t have any veggies for a stir fry, and all I had was chicken breast. So… what to make?

I have tons of chicken recipes, but every one I pulled out needed something I didn’t have.
This one wanted white wine.
That one wanted broccoli.
Another wanted asparagus.

And then I saw it: Chicken Piccata.
I haven’t made it in ages. It’s easy, quick, and the leftovers warm up beautifully.

So that’s what I made — my makeshift dinner to use up the broth and lemons.

Chicken Piccata

Ingredients

Chicken:

  • 4 chicken breasts
  • ½ cup flour
  • 1 lemon
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil (olive oil recommended)
  • Salt and pepper to taste

For the Sauce:

  • ¼ cup butter
  • 1½ tablespoons flour
  • 1 cup chicken broth
  • ½ cup white wine or additional chicken broth
  • 2 tablespoons capers
  • 2 tablespoons fresh parsley

Instructions

  1. Prep the chicken:
    Place the chicken breasts between two sheets of plastic wrap and pound them to an even ½‑inch thickness.
  2. Dredge:
    Combine flour, lemon zest (zest ½ the lemon), salt, and pepper. Dredge the chicken in the flour mixture and set aside.
  3. Cook the chicken:
    Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium‑high heat. Cook the chicken 4–5 minutes per side, until just cooked through. Cook in batches if needed. Remove and set aside.
  4. Make the roux:
    In the same pan, melt the butter. Add the 1½ tablespoons of flour and whisk until smooth.
  5. Build the sauce:
    Gradually whisk in the chicken broth, a little at a time, until smooth.
  6. Add flavor:
    Add lemon juice, white wine (or more broth), and capers. Simmer for 3 minutes, whisking occasionally.
  7. Finish:
    Return the chicken to the pan and simmer 2–3 minutes more. Stir in parsley and serve over pasta.

And that, my friends, was my “use‑it‑up” dinner — born from leftover chicken broth and two lemons on their last legs. If you try it, let me know how yours turns out.

 

Zoomies and Kitty Chaos

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Dynamic cartoon of a gray cat running fast with looping motion trails, illustrating classic cat zoomies and high‑speed feline behavior.

The Zoomie Trigger

Around here, the zoomies don’t start because the cats are playful or energized or feeling frisky.
No.
In this house, the zoomies have a very specific trigger:

Someone has left a calling card in the litter box.

One of the boys finishes his business, steps out with great dignity, and then suddenly realizes:

“I have created a stink. I must escape my own crime.”

And that’s when the chaos begins.

Banner: The Aerodynamic Escape Artist

Banner is the main culprit. His zoomies aren’t just running — they’re a full‑scale production.

First, his tail drops. This is notable because Banner’s tail is normally straight up like a proud little flagpole. But apparently, when fleeing the scene of his own stink, he becomes a creature of pure physics.

I swear he’s thinking:

“I must reduce wind resistance. Speed is essential.”

Tail down.
Body low.
Banner becomes a furry missile.

Then the muttering starts — not meowing, not chirping, just steady commentary as he revs himself up. And then he launches, tearing through the condo like a horse exploding out of the starting gate.

 

The Cat Tree Must Pay for Its Crimes

No zoomie session is complete without Banner stopping mid‑sprint to absolutely punish the cat tree.

I don’t know what the cat tree ever did to him, but Banner treats it like it has personally offended him and must be brought to justice.

Once the tree has been properly chastised, he’s off again, tail kinked, paws flying, muttering the whole way.

Balboa: The Spock of the Living Room

Balboa sometimes joins in, turning it into a two‑cat stampede.
But more often, he perches on the back of the couch or a shelf, ears pricked forward, watching with deep feline fascination.

He looks exactly like Spock observing an unfamiliar lifeform.

I can practically hear the log entry:

“Feline Behavior Log, Stardate 2026.6.09.
The small one has once again initiated the Post‑Litterbox Escape Ritual.
His aerodynamic tail adjustment is… fascinating.”

If he had eyebrows, one would absolutely be raised.

If Only They’d Give Me a Warning

I always wish I could catch it on video, but zoomies don’t come with a warning. If cats could just give me ten seconds’ notice —

“Attention human, zoomies commencing, prepare recording device.”

— I’d have a whole YouTube channel by now.

Until then, I’ll keep trying to describe the chaos. Words don’t quite capture it, but Banner certainly tries his best to provide the sound effects.

Stunt Double Demonstration: Actual Banner zoomies may occur at higher speeds and with more complaining.

 

Disclaimer: No cats were harmed during this zoomie session. Stunt doubles were used for any scenes requiring stillness, cooperation, or the ability to hold a pose for more than 0.3 seconds.