how strange that it is so easy for people to talk in cars. it must have something to do with the enforced temporary proximity or, with the proportion of space, or perhaps the sealed, cushioned interior silence which must resemble in some way, the insulated room of a group therapy of sorts. it is as though the automobile were a specially designed glass talking machine engineered for human intimacy. and, in a car the need to watch the road diverts and relieves the passengers, giving to their conversation an unexpected flowing disinterestedness.
the intensity of the conversation is usually proportional to the number of times getting lost while driving. missing exits, taking the wrong route and paying extra at unneeded tolls indicates an especially intimate conversation where being an hour late (for what should have been a four hour drive) is gladly welcomed.
whether 20 minutes of 5 hours, i’ve had some of my best conversations in the car.