On the road again…

Ahhhhh! The family vacation. What could be more American (with liberal doses of Apple Pie, Baseball, the fourth of July, and political scandals) than jumping in a vehicle, driving thousands of miles, and going to see things that aren’t much different than where you came from?

For those MyMac readers that aren’t from the United States, let me tell you that while you certainly may DO the same things during your vacations, it has a whole different feel here in North America. Let me explain.

First off, the United States (and Canada) is really big. Vast amounts of real estate just begging to be driven over at 75 MPH (or more). You won’t exactly SEE very much as most of the Interstate Highway system was purposely built in the most desolate, least desirable areas of the country. Think about it. If that land had actually been worth all that much, they wouldn’t have built a highway on it.

Second, each Interstate has exits to get off of. Each exit has a McDonalds (it’s in the US Constitution or something), at least four gas stations (two of which must be mini-marts), one hotel or more in various states of disrepair, and a historical marker (George Washington’s favorite Aunt’s neighbor’s maid once thought of coming here!) showing why this God-forsaken place merited putting an exit ramp on an Interstate highway.

So, Interstate Highways with vast distances to cover…check. Children either hyperactively sugared up or bloated and lethargic on fast food…check. Trapped in a vehicle with a maniacal father that hasn’t blinked for the last hundred miles or so due to all the coffee he drank earlier…check. You can now see why it might be different than where you live.

Years ago, the family vacation had a slightly different feel to it. Oh, we were still driving ridiculous distances for usually dubious reasons, but you had a chance to actually see the areas you were driving through. Countless small towns, each with its own distinct flavor. So, how was it different? I’ll use myself as an example.

I grew up (this is a questionable concept at best, but just humor me) in what was once a small town in South Florida called Oakland Park. Oakland Park in turn was part of a small city (in the 1950-60s) called Fort Lauderdale. I have a sister that lives in McLean, Virginia (and still does). By an odd turn of events (something to do with genetics I’m led to believe), my sister had two children that were my age. Both my sister and her husband and my parents enjoyed having time apart from their children (as a father myself now, I completely understand this). So, the summer swap was initiated.

This is how it worked. Each summer, either my sister’s kids would fly down to Florida, or my Brother Larry, Sister Nancy, and myself would fly up to Virginia. At some point near to mid-summer, whatever family group had the bulk of the children would load them into a ChryFordrolet Behemouth and drive them to an agreed hostage swap location near Nagshead, North Carolina where usually two beach houses were rented. Whatever set of parents hadn’t had the kids yet would be forced to take them back to their homes, where havoc would be raised until the non-native children would be blindfolded, fed candy loaded with knock-out drops and put on a plane that hopefully would land close to where they lived.

But this isn’t what I meant to talk about.

Driving to Northern Virginia from South Florida in the early to mid 1960s was not an undertaking for the timid. The roughly 1100 miles would take three days or more to navigate. Interstate 95 was only available in sections which meant lots of getting off onto detours and following either US highway 1 or 301. This means three days or more with children trapped in the back seat with almost nothing to do besides reading, sleeping, eating, or annoying their parents with incessant cries of, “Are we there yet?” Heck, day one was mostly taken up with just getting out of the State of Florida.

These days, things are a lot easier. The Interstates (vast bastions of wasteland that they are) make the miles go relatively smoothly. The cars we drive now, are much more comfortable with features that weren’t available to me as a child like, DVD players, laptop computers, portable (and some not so portable) game systems, all designed to lull children into not bothering their parents when they get hopelessly lost.

So why am I talking about all this? On Wednesday, June 20th, I’m packing a good portion of my material possessions, my wife, and my two boys into a rented car, to go to Florida. We’re going to St Augustine and the Space Coast to satisfy my wife’s requirements that the kids learn something valuable and then over to Orlando to satisfy my kid’s requirements that I go into bankruptcy.

If you’re on Interstate 95 somewhere between Virginia and Florida tomorrow, keep an eye out for us and wave. We’ll be easy to spot. We’re in the blue minivan.