So, there I was driving in to work this morning, and there, on the shoulder of the opposite side of the road, on some holy trek towards an unknown purpose, was a ragtag processional throng lead by a hippy-ish-looking young man carrying a homemade wooden Celtic cross... protected by the favor of God, orange safety vests, and the deliberate escort of SUVs with flashing lights on them.
And I was sad inside for I wished I had the day off, too.