As I near the advent of a summertime road trip to Vegas, I can’t help recalling the road trips I took with my own family back in the 80s. You haven’t really experienced the drive from San Jose to Anaheim until you’ve been wedged into the back of a black ’79 Datsun 310 in the August heat and ridden for 8 long hours with only a bag of stuff to do to keep you company. I remember trying to shift my legs and continually coming up against the back of the seat and my pink plastic netted Esprit bag—a bag that my mother had made me pack myself. Nothing was purchased for the stuff to do bags—it was all from home.
I didn’t even know what air conditioning was until my family purchased a van in ’89 and the cool air started pouring through the vents. Oh dear God, it was incredible!
My more recent road trips have been shared with my husband, and there’s definitely something to be said for splitting the driving and riding up front. We’d have a series of CDs in continual rotation: the Doobie Bros, The Producers, Spam-A-Lot, and the Scorpions (the orchestral German version–the Berlin Philharmoniker, I believe). Once, we accidentally took a shady exit off the 10, I got us out of a sketch neighborhood. Jarrod in turn has helped me.
For once, we’re not driving to San Luis Obispo or Anaheim…we’re off to Vegas. And while I can’t say I’m excited about an eight hour drive, I can say that I am stoked to return to a place that I haven’t visited in 5 years.
So perhaps–vive le road trip?