Road Food

Road Kill and Road Food

Mom would fry chicken the night before a trip and we would eat it cold on the road. If we were in the right geographic region we would get an A&P Spanish Bar. If not, a homemade "hard time" cake (so called because the recipe didn't call for eggs) would do. She would usually bring a package of Fig Newtons because she was the only one who would eat the gritty sad-faced abominations.

I remember waiting in the parking lot for an A&P Store to open and the bitter disappointment when they didn't have a Spanish Bar Cake.

Cheez-it

The Cops

Close Encounters

Witnesses to a tornado often describe it as sounding like a freight train. You know what else sounds like a freight train? A freight train.

Things We Never Did in Our Station Wagon

Stopped Next to the Pool to Light a Lady's Smoke.

Stood on the Tailgate to See Our Friends off on Their Cruise.

Wore Authentic Cowboy Outfits.

Made Grownups Ride in the Very Back.

Gave Unbridled Affection to our Dog.

Wore Big Yellow Hats.

Pulled Off the Big Heist Using Only Arrows for Weapons.

Hunted Foxes (see #1 above).

The unavoidable conclusion? We didn't need a station wagon, we needed an art director.

Remember?

A diehard Buick man, Dad gave into the realities of five children and a dog and bought a Chevy Bel Air station wagon with a rear facing third row bench--which made everyone carsick. We usually just laid it flat and rolled around in the back. The car lost a hubcap driving home from the dealer and it was all downhill from there.

"A Chevy is a car, but a Buick is an automobile."

Armadillo detail.

Trailer Envy II

The Airstream

Fiberglass Family

Muffler Man and Big Boy Compare Hairdos