riding in the car the windows down. even in the middle of winter just to feel the wind. pierce through me, blow me away. scatter all that is within me, churn what is stagnated.
When I was seven, we were crossing the Canadian border in the old red station wagon. I always rode in the "back back" without the seats being open, just lying in the cargo area. Parents would be jailed for this today, but I made it to 40 so I guess I did ok.
The border guard asked if we had any fruit, and my parents obediently gave him our apples. As we crossed the border, driving away from the guard shack perhaps 20 yards away at this point, I noticed that there were some bananas in the back back with me. So I yelled through the open window to the guards..."WE'VE GOT BANANAS TOO!"
We called the back of our station wagon the way-back. That's where we read comic books saved for the long trip to Michigan for our summer vacation. The big, thick ones cost twenty-five cents then. And no, seat belts didn't even show up in science fiction stories. I remember reading about how some comic figure was eating yogurt. I asked my parents what it was. Nobody ate it in those days. I practiced rolling the word in my mouth and it sounded funnier every time I did. Strange how some of my clearest memories are not necessarily the most important ones.
riding in the car changes and stays the same...as a child the decision to "go" wasn't mine, but my presence on the journey was required. No need to protest, the grown ups had a reason for going. some rides were filled with laughter and some with terse tense tight-lipped silence, usually connected with how promptly the 5 children responded to the request to load the car. eventually we arrived at some significant destination: church, the cemetary, a relative's house, neighbors to gater eggs, the grocery store, or even a swimming pool! as an adult I think I'm often in the "way back" that Terry P. talks about, and I might as well find a comic book and enjoy the ride...and trust the Driver to get me somewhere significant safely...
When I was seven, we were crossing the Canadian border in the old red station wagon. I always rode in the "back back" without the seats being open, just lying in the cargo area. Parents would be jailed for this today, but I made it to 40 so I guess I did ok.
ReplyDeleteThe border guard asked if we had any fruit, and my parents obediently gave him our apples. As we crossed the border, driving away from the guard shack perhaps 20 yards away at this point, I noticed that there were some bananas in the back back with me. So I yelled through the open window to the guards..."WE'VE GOT BANANAS TOO!"
I've always been a helpful sort of person.
ha. funny stuff.
ReplyDeleteWe called the back of our station wagon the way-back. That's where we read comic books saved for the long trip to Michigan for our summer vacation. The big, thick ones cost twenty-five cents then. And no, seat belts didn't even show up in science fiction stories. I remember reading about how some comic figure was eating yogurt. I asked my parents what it was. Nobody ate it in those days. I practiced rolling the word in my mouth and it sounded funnier every time I did. Strange how some of my clearest memories are not necessarily the most important ones.
ReplyDeleteriding in the car changes and stays the same...as a child the decision to "go" wasn't mine, but my presence on the journey was required. No need to protest, the grown ups had a reason for going. some rides were filled with laughter and some with terse tense tight-lipped silence, usually connected with how promptly the 5 children responded to the request to load the car. eventually we arrived at some significant destination: church, the cemetary, a relative's house, neighbors to gater eggs, the grocery store, or even a swimming pool! as an adult I think I'm often in the "way back" that Terry P. talks about, and I might as well find a comic book and enjoy the ride...and trust the Driver to get me somewhere significant safely...
ReplyDelete