Greetings from the scenic metropolis of Mt. Vernon, Kentucky!
After almost eight hours of driving past slide-offs, idling in endless traffic jams, and slithering unscathed right through one NASCAR-grade pileup, I pulled off the skating brink mislabelled "I-75" and holed up in a motel.
The weatherman is a lying fink.
I am now a total believer in antilock brakes. There is nothing like seeing a guy waving his arms in the middle of the freeway, flooring the brakes and steering for daylight through the middle of an apocalyptic dozen-car wreck to make you get that religion. (Especially when the pileup included Audi, Honda, and GMC SUV's, and I was in a skateboard wearing summer sports.)