When I was nineteen, two of my cousins and I took a road trip from Chicago to California via the legendary 'Route Sixty Six'. One of the highlights of that trip was our visit to Disneyland, 
something I had been dreaming of since I was a five year old kid running around in a Davy Crockett coon skin hat, and a fringed jacket made out of vinyl. It was kind of pathetic, seeing a long haired, nineteen year old guy riding around in Alice's tea cup, and flying around on the Dumbo ride, but I had to fulfill that childhood dream.Back when I had first heard of Disneyland, I knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that my dad could ever take us there. Our summer vacations always centered around a rented cottage on some muddy little lake, within four hours driving time of our town. Those vacations were always punctuated by angry outbursts by my dad, caused by the inevitable mishap, calamity, or misdeed by one of his children. The trip I remember most clearly is where the rooftop carrier, along with all of our luggage, went flying off the top of the station wagon, while we cruised down the highway at sixty miles per hour. The car
immediately filled with the screams of children seeing their bathing suits and toys scattering across the pavement, while my dad bellowed and cursed from the front seat. I believe I might have actually heard a few new swear words that day, as my dad was scooping up our clothes from the highway.That was our vacation back then, so imagine my surprise to learn from my mom, that after I had grown up and moved out on my own, my dad taken the second tier of his offspring, the six youngest, on an airplane trip to California, and Disneyland. My jealousy was short lived however, when I listened to my mom describe the fun that ensued when they got to Los Angeles, and found their hotel reservations were not honored, and the car rental agency tried to give my dad, mom, and six children, a subcompact car. I'm sure my little sisters had heard most of my dads repertoire of cursing before, but on that vacation he just might have kicked it up a notch.
you might be my long lost brother
ReplyDeleteYou are welcome to attend our family reunion. I have to warn you it will be loud, but at least there will be alcoholic beverages served.
ReplyDeleteSo, when is the next reunion, a funeral or a wedding?
ReplyDeleteGuess what Anonymous? There are those who gather together for holidays and other celebrations. And those who don't have made their own choices.....too bad, life is really short and getting shorter.
ReplyDeleteAnd about those "cottage vacations".... As a kid I thought they were great, but ask Mom how she enjoyed them. Imagine cooking and laundry for a large family without any of the amenities one has at home! Add to that the sand and bugs and sunburned kids..... And do you remember when we would take Gramma, Grampa, and Aunt Mary with? I, too, envied the younger groups vacations until I actually heard the stories, and now I'm glad for those lazy days on the lake!
ReplyDeleteOh how I wish I could go back to the lazy vacations at the lake, Gary getting eaten by a turtle that was really a rock. Sunburned feet,face and backs, dad actually relaxed and fun to be around. And I think I actually saw Grandma Webb smile once back then. Those are some of the best memories I have of my childhood. To bad they are few and far between. I had momentary jealousy of the younger group, but since I didn't like flying then, I didn't care that much that I wasn't included. Besides I was a grown up by then HAHAHAHAHAHA!
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