Hit the Road, Jack!

The summer family road trip! A rich family tradition that has been ingrained in the hearts of the American family for nearly 100 years. But, like all traditions, it has been diluted over the last few generations. The rapid advancement of technology over the last 15 years has somewhat tarnished the amazing experience that is a family vacation.




The greatest part of the road trips from my youth was the invention of games. There were no real video games to speak of (a black and white Game Boy with approximately 20 minutes of battery life), and the idea of TVs in cars was something you would only see in JR Ewing's limousine. So, it was up to our own vivid imagination (along with Mom's and Dad's own influences) to create games that could be used to occupy hours upon hours of road time. They always started out wildly creative. Like, the "cow game." You would each count the amount of cows that pass your respective side of the car. If you passed a cemetery on your side, you would start back at zero. And, then, the creativity would start to slow down. Next, came "Car Nintendo." In this game, each person on the car would close one eye, focus on a bug spot on the windshield, and move their head back and forth to move the image of the splattered insect, weaving in and out of the dashed lines on the highway. The only problem with "Car Nintendo" is that, as other travellers pass on the highway, they catch a glimpse of a car full of people with one eye closed, bobbing back and forth, mouths gaped open and ridiculous, delirious laughter...A car full of morons... After that excitement had settled down, the game would change to something a little more simple. This round was usually determined by where you were seated. Growing up, we had the awesome, wood-paneled station wagon. And, being the middle child, but the youngest boy, I would usually end up in the back. For my brothers and sister, it was "The Alphabet Game." But, for me, it would usually end up being a game of "Staring Blankly at Truckers for Thirty Minutes." Such a sad place, the back of the station wagon, all alone. I could hear the laughter of everyone in front as they played "License Plate Bingo," as I sat in the back, reenacting "Being Born" to the family that was stuck behind us in a construction zone. That's where you pull your t-shirt over your head and pull your arms in and pretend that you are a baby, breaching the neck hole of your shirt...So, Mom, THAT'S how all my shirts became so stretched out...




The music of a road trip usually was determined by the person driving. No MP3 players, no laptops....Just the turn dial AM/FM radio that was usually static as you passed along the countryside. And the majority of the songs we heard were the sweet melodies of tunes like, "Get Back Over On Your Side!" and "Why Do I Always Have To Sit On the Hump?" or "We Just Stopped! Why Didn't You Go To The Bathroom Then?" Usually, when it was Dad driving, it was the the classic song, "Wind Whipping Through The Little Triangle Window Because The A/C Eats Up Gas Mileage."




I pass by the minivans on the road today and see the DVD screens in headrests and the headphones jacked in. It's amazing, the docile nature of children in vehicles today; comatose zombies watching Yo Gabba Gabba on a 4.5" screen, slurping down a GoGurt and the parents just humming along to satellite radio with a happy little smile on their face. I couldn't imagine the parents in these cars ever having to hold on to the steering wheel with one hand, keeping one eye on the road while the other eye is in the rear-view mirror and the other hand is frantically trying to find the nearest child to spank. My parents could have been stunt drivers for the movies. They were not just good at punishing us locally...They decided to take their show on the road. And the other parents on the highway never looked at them with disgust. In fact, I saw one guy pass us during one of mom's "High-Speed Spankings." He just looked over with beady eyes and clinched teeth, and I swear I could make out the words "Get 'Em!" pass across his slightly upward pointed lips. And there was an art form to it. Each of my parents had their own style of backseat discipline. My mom was more of a "Mohammed Ali" or "Joe Frazier;" quick, precise movements. Dad, on the other hand, had the wide, broad, powerful sweeps like Butterbean or Foreman. Now, before you even try to judge my parents, you have to know this: We were terrible little kids. We would pinch each other, hit each other, throw each other over the bench and toss each other's toys out of the car window. The day we got the station wagon, we became worse, because we could escape the flying hands of rage by clamouring to the back of the wagon, where our shenanigans would continue.




And we could ride in the back of the station wagon, because there were no seat belt enforcement laws. I always found that the best place to sleep in the car is in the back window, being kissed by the sunlight. I actually saw a child's neck pillow for sale in store recently. A neck pillow! Whatever happened to just sitting on the floor of the car, and laying your head down on the seat. Seat belts were just those things that could launch popsicle sticks like torpedoes and what you would have to cram back into the seats when you were trying to fit for than four people into the backseat.




And now, you can see a lot of the Highway Patrol "Motorist Assist" vehicles on the road. These are the units that scour the freeways, looking for broken down travellers to help. You'll see the officers hunched over, grappling with lug nuts to change a flat as the driver looks on. How are kid supposed to enjoy the exciting entertainment of watching their father change a flat in the pouring rain and swearing under his breath while simultaneously avoiding the the barrage of oncoming interstate traffic and yelling at the children as they make faces at him through the windows?




So, this summer, if you are planning a road trip, do your kids a favor: Plan the entire trip "unplugged." Remove the DVD players, leave the MP3 players at home and ditch the video games. In fact, un-suction the GPS from the dash and get lost and then argue about it. Make the conscience decision to enjoy and hate each other's company all at the same time...like a real family...