Road Trippin'

One, two, a one, two, three, four. On the road again, I just can't wait to get on the road again.The life I love is "writing blogs" for you my friends, and I cant wait to get on the road again! Now that I have that tune stuck in your head for the rest of the day and have hopefully placed you in a "festive" mood(as festive as you can be at 6:00 a.m.), let's take a little trip shall we? 

Every family has gone, plans to go or remembers from their childhood times when they jumped in the car, threw in a map and hit the open road for a trip. If you're a kid you grab a pillow, some magazines, your music(discman with a cinder block size c.d. case in my day) and your good! It's really that easy. Lucky, I know! For parents, a three day road trip takes three weeks to pack for. There's everyone's bags, coats, shoes, hats...etc. Spare tires, fuses, spark plugs or whatever else could go bad on your rig because believe me, it will. Thinking ahead could be the only thing standing between you keeping it moving and you trying to convince your kids that the four hours they're spending sitting on a rock by the road is really an "adventure". Nobodies buying that line. You  have to pack the right drinks and snacks. Coke or Pepsi? Nuts or no nuts? Redvines or Twizzlers? No pressure, but you have to be prepared to please the impossible. Nobody likes listening to a twenty minute argument over having the wrong munches.  "Black licorice, what kind of crap is this?! We're turning around!" Now on top of all of that, you must use every skill you've learned to get it all to fit flawlessly in the car. This is where those hours of Tetris come in to play. See, handy!

I have to say, my parents were great at road trips! We always went to awesome places and found the coolest stuff to do(honestly, my family could make a padded room a party). We ate at every Mexican restaurant in the surrounding states and they never forgot the Bob Segar/Eagles/Steve Miller tapes(Yes, I said tapes. Look it up kids). It definitely made for some memories! A few of mine even find their way into most campfire conversations still to this day. 

Take the infamous Steamboat "soup or salad" incident of 94'. Say it three times fast now, what does it sound like? Soup or salad, souper salad, and yes I heard "super salad". Sounds delicious right? I thought so too. Waitress: "Soup or salad Miss?" Yes, please. "No, soup or salad?" I said yes! Sounds good! What's the problem here? "SOUP OR SALAD MISS?!" Jesus, is she deaf?!Three times, Yes I'll have that! Why is everyone staring at me? My Mom leans in and musters over her laugh "salad or soup, babe?" Oh, I see....(puts head down)"soup please." There hasn't been one time since that day that I don't catch crap when any waitress/every waitress asks that stupid question. 

Then there was Yellowstone 91'. Aww the beauty, the majesty, the geysers and yes the bugs.  They say everything is big in Texas, well not to argue but the big bugs are living fat and happy in Yellowstone! Being around eight years old and small (probably the last time I remember that I wasn't seven feet tall), it was my job to shimmy up the motorhome ladder every time my Dad asked me to. This one particular time though was the start of a nightmarish event that continues to haunt my dreams(again, who says I exaggerate). I'm up there, feeling big, feeling brave and helping out, until I hear "Austin, don't move." Now you know what instincts kick in when someone says those words. Your brain takes it in and turns it into "Move you idiot! Something is on you somewhere and it's trying to kill you!" I composed myself (based on the fact that I'm eight feet up a ladder)enough to turn my head as far back as I can. There staring back at my face is a pair of five inch long antennas attached to a giant devil bug from the netherworld climbing up my back! Spider-Man didn't have nothing on me as I pulled off a flailing jump maneuver to the ground and into the sweet safety of the motorhome in .6 seconds. The scream could probably have been heard in Texas.  I hysterically fill my Mom and Grandma in on the incident and they console me with a snack. Instantly distracted and comforted...until I go to take a bite. I pull the sandwich up to my face, brace myself for the delicious ham/turkey mix and out of the corner of my eye something wiggles. It's here, it's on my arm and staring me down Tombstone showdown style! That wretched beast never left at all, it was just sitting, waiting for the prime moment to strike again and nows his chance! Pure evil I tell you. Hearing my screams, my Grandma being the ever fearless woman she is picked that sucker up, showed it who was boss threw it out the door. She had us on the road in minutes and away from this demon spawn hell bent on on my demise. I loved that woman.  We shake it off, pull onto the road and as we drive off I look to the windshield just in time to see that bastard fly into it for scene three of this horror show! You have to admire his persistence.  A flip of the wiper switch this time however and problem solved. Again campfire fodder forever. 

Road trips really are the best pastime though. What other vacation can you take where you have no choice but to be close to each other. The sights, the stops, the stories, even the smells(you know what I mean). It's all plays a part in the participation and evolves the experience. Black licorice, breakdowns, big ass stalker bugs or even super salads, it's all good for future material. At least these days I'm old enough to be the butt of the jokes with a beer!