(March 27, 2024 at 9:50 pm)Ravenshire Wrote:Sorry for bringing up the childhood trauma. LOL.(March 27, 2024 at 2:00 pm)arewethereyet Wrote: It's 24 hours of straight driving and we seldom stayed in a hotel or stopped anywhere to sleep. The last trip I made with the family I was 16 and was taken out a bought an outfit of slacks, blouse, and blazer to sit in for whole trip with my two siblings who were likely as not to throw up at least once along the way. It's important to be properly attired when you are on the side of the Interstate while your parents wash barf off a kid with water that was formerly ice in the cooler.
Holy crap, but that triggered some memories. Never had to dress up to travel, but we made cross country road trips every summer (and any time on of dad's parents wound up in the hospital) from 1975 until I refused to go on any more starting in the summer of '87. Mom and Dad would drive in shifts and we'd stop for gas, groceries, and destinations... and not much else. I clocked enough miles as a kid that, were they United frequent flyer miles, I could get a free pass to mars when United opens service.
Mom used to love the cooler ice melt. It meant she could give us a drink of water (when what we really wanted was out of the fucking car for a few minutes) without stopping.
Mom and dad didn't drive in shifts. Dad swore that mom could take a wrong turn on a road with no crossroads. When my younger brother went to NC with mom and brought a friend of his along they didn't even have licenses yet, I don't think. They got so frustrated with mom getting them lost that they ended up taking the shifts at the wheel.
On a road trip with dad we stopped when the car needed gas or dad needed more coffee. That was it. You better time any bathroom needs to those things.
I did learn how to read a map when I was pretty young as there was nothing else to damn do on those treks. Other than dodging potential barf.
That trip when I was 16, dad bought the 8-track of Donna Fargo that featured "I'm the Happiest Girl in the Whole USA". Which he put in before we left the driveway and he played non-stop for the whole damn trip. Interspersed with that lovely piece of music was my brother singing the Hardees jingle every time he saw a Hardees sign. (Hurry on down to Hardees where the burgers are charcoal broiled.) UGH...
“If you are the smartest person in the room, then you are in the wrong room.” — Confucius