Tuesday, November 24

best of the best


When I was a kid, we used to take three weeks off in the summer and just drive. We had a big van and my Dad would pull out of the driveway at 4 am just because. I never figured out if it was the thrill of sneaking off in the middle of the night, the desire to not waste a single second of vacation, or to put as many miles behind him before us kids started driving him crazy. Probably a little bit of everything.

I love the memories of these trips. We'd camp. The years I can remember, it was in a trailer. Me and my three little brothers. Campfires and spooky stories, card games, comic books. We'd play the alphabet game or pick which cars we would have when we grew up. Or try and get truckers to honk.



And listen to lots of music. My Dad would sing and play his favorite parts over and over and over again. He's made us all fans of ZZ Top and songs like Hot Rod Lincoln:



He's the best of the best. And today's his birthday.

8 comments:

  1. Happy Birthday Christine's Dad!
    :)

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  2. Happy Birthday to your dad ! I guess the trail of the wanderlust leads to the 4.00 AM trailer trips !

    :)

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  3. Hi Christine,

    Your Dad sounds like a great guy. Best wishes to him and you on this day.

    U

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  4. Happy birthday Christine's Dad!!! :) :) :)

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  5. What great memories!
    HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!

    I used to own a Nash Rambler.

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  6. Happy Birthday, Christine's Dad!

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  7. Thanks for that special Birthday blog, and the memories. We did have some great times camping all over the USA. I guess I am guilty to replaying some tunes, at lease you know all the words now, the Little Nash Rambler, now that's a real classic. And thanks for all the Birthday wishes from your fellow bloggers... Love ya, Dad.

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  8. old memories, oh I have plenty. i remember the 70s the mountains with a bunch of hippies. man they were weird. i just started my career in the migration business, i followed because of an old friend from college. some said they were even anarchists. i remember during the night i heard sounds from the other tents (i had one for myself). i remember my embarrassment meeting my female friend the morning after.
    oh times have changed, hasn't it? time on my wrinkled skin and false teeth. i left the hippie camp that morning. sometimes however, this old mule whishes he stayed and joined them. nowadays i am an old man with a large bank account and a great record in the migration department. time is not kind. have you ever felt that too? my empty house and kids in berlin and ny. they never learnt playing tennis, to my pain. christine, you seem like a sensible woman. forgive an old man his ramblings. i traded my life for a career in migration. for meetings with men in ties and duck hunting. nowadays, my community is my only joy.

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...and you may ask yourself, well...how did I get here?