I Love To Drive, Little Brother!

I think we’re paraphrasing here – from the Coen brothers’ Raising Arizona. (One of the best movies. Ever.) My husband and I rattle off quotes from that movie all the time. And when we hop in the car for a drive and my husband gets behind the wheel he says, “I LOVE to drive, little brother!”

And pre-kids? We did. Love to drive, that is. (Post kids? Not so much.) On the weekends we’d hop in the car, with no particular destination in mind, and drive. We’d check out little Mom and Pop restaurants and stores, stop at a roadside vendor and buy homegrown tomatoes, or pull over to the side of the road and hop on the Appalachian Trail to hike for a spell.

Yesterday, as I maneuvered down the two lane country roads to my sons’ school, Airstream Driver by Gomez popped on my iPod. The rat-a-tat of the drum solo arrived just as I pulled up to a 4-way stop. There were no cars around so I stayed long enough to play my “drums” on the steering wheel. Then when the music picked up again I put my foot to the accelerator.

I’m itching for a drive. A long drive. Into the mountains. Down to the beach. Anywhere, really. As long as we can take a few back roads and see what most people don’t take time to see.

We dream, every once in a while, of renting an RV. Hitting the road. See America. No Interstate allowed. Only country roads. A former student of mine traveled the famous Route 66 from start to finish. He chronicled his journey in emails. I was so jealous. In a playful way, but jealous all the same.

There’s a scene in Disney’s Cars that talks about how now, with the Interstate, people don’t slow down to take in the sites, smell the roses. My great-aunt used to tell us stories of traveling from Florida to Michigan before I-75 was built. The little restaurants that had the best fried chicken. Moon Pies at the “fill-up station.” Favorite little shops to browse in and stretch your legs.

But now, we’re in such a hurry to get to our destination. We forget to live in the moment of getting there and what that entails.

 The interesting places we see.

 The interesting people we meet along the way.

All things that make the journey memorable.  

Hey, That Reminds Me!

I read so many of your posts out there and you’ll stir a memory or remind me of something else I’ve heard. It happens so often I’m thinking of starting a meme (If it hasn’t been done already! Jeez, it seems every time I come up with a great idea it’s already been thought of. And if you’re here to take my great idea remember, you heard it here first and I’ve got proof – note the time and date stamp of this post!) but I’m too technologically-challenged to create a button for you to “grab.” But I digress…

Julia, over at Brainella the Librarian, reminded me of a wonderful game my dad and I used to play with one another – in my teens and early twenties. It stopped because it made my mother jealous but that’s for another post. And before your dirty, Freudian minds get away from you let me explain….

My dad traveled a lot for work. During lay-overs or at tacky diners, he’s browse the gift shops. He bring home the tackiest gift he could find. An Elvis souvenir comb from Memphis. An ashtray (I didn’t smoke) with Jimmy Carter’s face in the bottom (I’m not kidding about this one. I wish I could find it to show you!). The “All I Got Was This T-Shirt” t-shirt. Refrigerator magnets. Hats. Pens that glowed in the dark. Silly mugs and other beverage containers. Sunglasses. You get the picture. We had so much fun trying to top each other with our gifts.

It was a wonderful way to connect. To be thinking of each other when we didn’t see each other so much anymore. When I was in high school I spent the summer in Germany. I remember I brought my dad home a teeny, tiny beer stein – it couldn’t hold more than 2 sips. In my twenties, I went to Paris. I found a pair of toenail trimmers with the Eifel Tower on it. I scooped it up. Later in the trip, one of my fellow travellers got a hangnail. She had to use the nail clippers. So, my dad received an even tackier gift that year – it was a pair of used nail trimmers with the Eifel Tower emblazoned on it.

It’s a great memory for me from a comfortable time in my relationship with my father. It’s one that I want to carry on with my children when I begin to travel away from them, when they’re at an age to understand the silliness and fun. Just another way to add fun to an adventure!