The Sontosky Wormhole Effect

My last big road trip involved assisting my sister with her job-related move from Portland, Oregon to Hurst, Texas, a community roughly halfway between Dallas and Fort Worth.

I flew into Portland, and after picking me up at the airport, Pam whisked me away to the coast so we could say our goodbyes to the breathtaking beauty of Oregon’s rocky shoreline and crashing untamed ocean. After we got back to her place in Beaverton, we finished stuffing the remainder of her belongings into her brand spanking new Hyundai Santa Fe, and then we were on our way - the two of us and her two furchildren, Sergei and Dani.

Much of that trip is best left in the fuzziness of stress-induced memory loss. I can tell you it was no picnic. Pam was leaving everything and everyone she loved to move to an unknown place in order to remain employed. Be that as it may, we did have lots of fun just being with each other, and we made a new discovery - The Sontosky Wormhole Effect.

The name originates with Pam’s best friend, Valerie, who married a wonderful guy named Andy Sontosky. Pam and I had planned to have dinner and stay overnight with Val and Andy on our way through Colorado. Keep in mind, this was no sightseeing trip. We stopped only for fuel, food and what Pam calls "bio-breaks." Still, we found it was getting later and later and Colorado and the Sontosky B&B were a very long way away.

Pam called Valerie to update her on our progress. I was not privy to the entire conversation, but after Pam got off the phone, I could see even in the twilight that her face was pink with frustration and the effort of remaining civil. "Val asked what was taking us so long!" she exclaimed. "And then Andy grabbed the phone and asked if we were driving 35 mph and stopping at every rest stop!"

I nearly blew a gasket. "What the hell?" I raged. "What do they expect us to do? I’m going 80, and I have been all along!"

We vented at each other until we were all vented out (which was actually quite beneficial, considering the level of stress in the car), with the dogs adding their little sharp-voiced opinions, and after a while we were able to laugh about it.

"This phenomenon needs a name," I declared. "We should call it the ‘Sontosky Effect.’"

"No!" Pam said, laughing. "That’s not good enough - it should be the ‘Sontosky Wormhole Effect.’ No matter how fast you go, it isn’t going to be fast enough and you’re never going to get there quickly enough!"

I know, I know - technically, wormholes transport things at a much faster rate than one would normally expect, but not the Sontosky Wormhole Effect. It works just the opposite. And that’s what makes it special.

We’ve both noticed since then that the Sontosky Wormhole Effect plays a big part in long-distance trips for both of us. I watched for it when I drove down to see Pam in Texas, and she kept a record when she drove up to see me. It seems that no matter what Google says, if we tack on just about an hour, we’ll be right on time. It doesn’t matter how fast or slow we drive, and it doesn’t matter how many "bio-breaks" we take.

Oh, and as for the Sontosky B&B? We finally pulled up there at 2 a.m. So much for dinner! Still, the Sontosky's were gracious hosts, and we got a good night's sleep before heading out the next morning.