I would really love for my family to make at least one road trip like the ones we used to make when I was a kid. The ones when my dad would rent a minivan and drive my mom, my sister, and me from Washington to California. I would have the middle seat and my sister would camp out in the back. On one particular road trip, I listened to Paula Abdul's Spellbound album on my Walkman the entire time. The entire time from Tacoma, Washington to the California Bay Area. The entire time. I listened to that album while I gazed out the window at row after row of fruit orchards and ate pixy stix and wax bottle candies - this was the only time I ever remember that it was okay to eat pixy stix and wax bottle candies, although I don't think I ever enjoyed a single one of those wax bottles. When I listen to the songs on Spellbound now, of course, a sense of nostalgia washes over me and I am back in that van with my family. But the funny thing is, even then, even then as I rode in that van, listening to that album made me feel like I was older and looking back at something.
When we drove up to my grandfather's house on that particular trip, I tried to pull my dad into my world. Not considering at all what my father might have been thinking, mentally preparing to bring his wife and two kids into his father's house for the first time in a year or so. Not considering at all that he might have been exhausted from the drive, tired, thirsty, or perhaps in need of a potty break. Nope, I didn't consider that at all. I was in my own world. And as we opened the minivan doors and stepped out onto dusty driveway, I placed my headphones over my father's ears during the violin instrumental portion of Rush Rush and said something to effect of, "it's nice right, the violins, it's like classical music." What?! I mean, what?! Come on now, Deece. And my dad, bless his soul, he never made me feel dumb for saying dumb things. He obliged and listened for a moment before handing back my metal adjustable headphones with a nod and a smile. He very well could have told me to put that crap away, that wasn't classical music, come on now Deece you know the difference between Bach, Mozart, Schubert, and some fifty cent pop violin piece?!
Ah, summer. I miss you. Are you going on vacation this summer? Maybe you're already there.
And because no childhood is complete without a living room fort...