I also remember when getting from I-40 East to I-65 South involved crossing three lanes of traffic — and as my mom tried to somehow look over the back of the camper to see if we had room to get over, my dad would yell, "Goddamnmotherfuckingsonofabitching kids, shut up." (True story: I did not know there were separate cuss words until high school. I thought there was just one grand cuss word, and you could break lesser parts off as needed.) Needless to say, vacations with the Phillipses were not often restful.
So when I just learned that three Nashville interchanges are among the worst in the nation, I found myself thinking, "It's a helluva lot better than it used to be."