The Grannies of I-95: A new type of driver hits the road

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By Lee Scott

There is an exclusive club I have joined recently. I call it the “Grannies of I-95.”

You might have seen one of us. We go up and down major highways with gifts and food loaded in the back of our cars, headed to our grandchildren’s ballet recitals, birthday parties and graduations.

The Grannies of I-95 are much different from grandmothers of the past. My two grandmothers both had blue white hair and never went anywhere without my grandfathers. However, many of the grandmothers today have their red or blonde hairdos and have no problem leaving grandpa at home.

The grandmothers are active in golf and tennis and are involved in community projects.

Many of the Grannies have unique names like Nonna, or Mimi, Gigi or Nina and, after hearing about an upcoming sports event or piano recital, pack up the car and take off.

Overall, we are a very organized group. We place healthy snacks in our insulated bags; foods like carrots, granola bars and chocolate. (Did I say healthy?) We carry water bottles and iced tea in our little coolers along with homemade cookies for
the grandchildren.

There are other necessities we load in our cars. The GPS, an EZ Pass, audio books, and of course, the cell phone with the car adapter charger. The Grannies like to be prepared.

We normally stop at our favorite barista’s for the first cup of coffee of the long drive. And because we have done the trip so many times we know all the rest stops. “How dare Virginia tear down their rest facilities and put in porta-potties!” we collectively complained to one another recently.

We have also had to learn the highway exits where we can pick up fast food, always keeping in mind the “not open on Sunday” rule of our favorite Chick-fil-A.

For us, the drive back home tends to be a bit less hectic. Many of us stay in hotels on the return drive just to relax.

The fast pace environment of the city along with the active lifestyles of young grandchildren are both exhilarating and exhausting.

It is there in the hotels where I have found myself smiling at other “Grannies of I-95” as we head up to our hotel rooms with our bottles of white wine ready for a long peaceful night sleep.

After all, we are grannies.

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