I Have A Silly Dream
Wednesday, June 3, 2009 at 07:44AM
Sometimes I even go by road signs.
As a recent blog post revealed, I still roam the Earth without benefit of an electronic global positioning system. I pretty much live by the credo "Wherever you go, there you are." When that's not quite enough, I have found MapQuest to be invaluable as I navigate the Palmetto State and points beyond.
Be that as it may, our techno-savvy eldest daughter and son-in-law have added GPS to their ever-growing repertoire of non-human helps. As they were packing up to leave our house after Memorial Day festivities, I checked out the gizmo where it perched on their dash like an exotic -- if squarish -- bird, its lengthy power cord resembling a licorice shoestring.
By and large the grownups' lingo was arcane to our ears.
I had some questions and my daughter was eager to answer them. She showed me how, by simply touching the bright screen, one can map a route from here to there while pinpointing the location of fueling centers, retail outlets, lodging chains, and fast food joints along the way. Hungry? The GPS will tell you in an audible voice how far you are from the next Happy Meal.
When I was growing up we spent a lot of time on the road. Most days you were happy just to have a meal.
Whether for a ten-block or a ten-hour trip, my grandchildren are strapped like jet pilots into government-regulation car seats from which they are not supposed to be removed as long as the car is in Drive. Their father is a pastor.
My sister and I spent a significant portion of our young lives rattling around in a stolen (yes, stolen ... instead of GPS we had GTA) baby blue Nash Rambler driven by a criminal. The getaway car, as it were. I often used the back window as a bed. I was long and thin; on a sudden stop I resembled a pencil falling off a ledge.
Not only was our vehicle hot; its interior was also an un-airconditioned environment. On too-warm days while wearing shorts your bare thigh-backs stuck peskily to the vinyl of the backseat, but you were mercifully unrestrained. In the free and relatively innocent America of my unconventional childhood, the breeze through Mama and Daddy's wing vents was scented with dreams.
My grandchildren, who have never ventured west of the Mississippi, are driven hither and yon in a Nissan the color of cranberries. In addition to the voice of the GPS telling Daddy and Mommy where to turn, as likely as not a road trip will include listening to either or both parents chatting on mobile phones to one relative, friend, or parishioner or another.
My sister and I tried (with limited success) to keep from fighting on our extended "vacations" while watching the backs of Mama and Daddy's heads for any signs we were in trouble. By and large the grownups' lingo was arcane to our ears, but I in particular listened for Mama to mention stopping at an A&P where we could buy a Spanish Bar Cake and maybe a soda pop to share.
At any rate, whatever level of conversation existed within our automobile's cozy environ was exchanged between persons entirely present. Repartee was often punctuated by the skitch! of a match on a tiny sandpaper strip as Mama or Daddy lit up. My nostrils loved the aroma of the first sweetish puffs before the smoke turned acrid, and my eyes loved watching the cigarette's tip glow neon orange as a parental unit inhaled.
I long for the America I remember.
The perky GPS provides clues to my son-in-law regarding the available places to purchase gasoline. The huge, shiny C-stores and string of computerized fueling islands are so unlike the dinky filling stations we frequented. I can still hear the dull ding ... ding ... ding of the Sinclair Dino pump as our Rambler hungrily nursed, and I still love the smell of idling engine exhaust.
We had maps. Folded like elaborate fans into flat, space-saving oblongs, when unfurled they became half-acre charts to anywhere. Their many shapes of pastel green, yellow, and blue, splayed with red veins and chockablock with infinitesimal words and symbols, were fascinating to me. I can still imagine the feel of the cool indifferent paper and see the furry seams where they had been creased one time too many.
And as our sturdy tires carried us, untethered, from town to town, county to county, state to state, region to region, from one landscape to the next, there was the certainty of adventure and the possibility of rich experience. Come weal or woe, the road afforded deft deliverance and life concealed a glowing ruby beneath its tongue.
I fear for my grandchildren's future. They have security and a birthright and access to truth that I did not have, but I am beginning to wonder if they will enjoy the personal liberties I have never been asked to live without. As technology waxes, what good is it if freedoms wane?
One of my favorite things to say is, "You can never go back ... and why would you want to?" I'm going to stop saying that. I want to go back to the America I knew as a child. Unborn children were safer there. We had problems but we worked them out without apologizing for what our beloved country was all about in the first place.
I long for the pre-GPS America that I remember, and I want it back for my grandchildren. I know it's a silly dream, but then I've always been a dreamer.
Jennifer
In a comment that was, I believe, inadvertently attached to the post Democrats On An Escalator, my beloved Uncle Dody asked if I knew where one could find a Spanish Bar Cake. He said he hadn't thought of that dessert in 40 years.
I think about Spanish Bar Cake all the time but I haven't seen one in over 40 years. Ever the Internet sleuth, my uncle's question prompted me to Google the issue.
In case you're interested, click here to read a short article about the A&P and its Spanish Bar Cake, including a recipe for making this delicious confection! I can taste it now.
Happy Spanish Bar Cake-ing!
Reader Comments (19)
I still operate GPS-less in auto travel, and don't feel the need for one. I'm a guy who adheres to a simple rule, one adopted from my backpacking days in the wild: "if you don't care where you're at, you're not lost".
'Nuff said ;)
This was very well written, Jenny, I enjoyed it very much. Loved the breeze through the vents scented with dreams. We did a lot of traveling around in my younger days and this brought some of it back. We never had a car that was stolen, but we had a few that no one in their right mind would have stolen from us! (My step-dad used to reassure me with "We're not lost - we're right here!")
This is just beautiful, Jennifer.
Great to find your blog here Jennifer. I so look forward to your musings on twitter, but as a zillion tweets stream past my eyes per minute, I often miss them.
Get to writing the book "3 words libs hate", I would love to buy a copy.
Cheers
Maria
When I was really young, we didn't have a car at all. We lived in London, and relied on buses, tube trains and taxis. As a teenager, I was introduced to the family car, and yes, I remember the vinyl seats, the little triangular fanlights, the smell of cigarette smoke and the unrestrained falling off of seats in a sudden stop. No radio. And no phones.
I think mobile phones have made us a little safer, in that we can call for assistance wherever we are, but (leaving aside the dangers involved with using them while driving) I wonder if they haven't also made us less self-reliant. We found ourselves driving away from the house yesterday on a short shopping trip, and fretting over the fact that neither of us had a phone with us. We were going into town, for goodness' sake!
When I think of how many miles I roamed on foot or bicycle as a teenager, without map, phone, money or food ... well, it's a wonder I survived! Or is it? ;)
@ SF ... as usual, your insights are as practical as they are easygoing and humorous! Sorry I haven't been by your lair for a while. I'll drop in tomorrow and see what's been on your mind of late!
@ Tracie ... a compliment from a writer of your caliber is a rare treat for me. I KNEW you'd come over here and say that you had some of the same memories as me! I just knew it. I'm glad. I love your stepfather's saying! Just the thing to set a child's mind at ease. BTW, are we THERE YET? :-)
@ Angie ... thank you from the bottom of my heart.
@ Maria ... I am so honored that you dropped by to read and took the time to comment! My Twitterfriends have been such a great encouragement to me, and you are anything but the exception! I am working on a book poking all kinds of fun at libs, I PROMISE!
@ Jay ... what wonderful memories! And like you, I both require and resent the cell phone! On this at least, we can never go back. Thanks for dropping by ... in the wee hours the other night I couldn't sleep and dropped by The Depp Effect and was SO THRILLED to see Sid! What a darling he is! I can't wait to read more about him and see more pics. Your bird pictures were extraordinary too but I was just too tired to comment. Love you, my friend.
Oh, Jenny, sweetie, now I'm the one flustered and flattered to get a compliment on my writing from someone of YOUR caliber! You really write very well indeed. And I have a feeling we have an awful lot in common from childhood - we were born to be friends, girl! If we don't get to do it sooner, we'll have to find a comfy cloud in Heaven and have a good talk for a thousand years or so! (And I'll just bet we could do it, too).
@ Tracie ... dibs on a sleepover at my mansion! Love ya, doll.
I especially loved the visual of the pencil falling off the ledge! I slept on one side of the floor. Never thought of sleeping in the window. As bleak as things look in our country, I take joy and comfort in knowing that God is in control and bringing about His purposes.
@ Lyn ... you must have been very tiny to curl up on one side of the floorboard! God bless your heart! I fear our country no longer cares what God thinks or wants. Even so come, Lord Jesus! Good to hear from you, my friend.
Thanks for the link to my blog post .. Spanish Bar Cake holds memories of the 50's for me, packed in a brown paper bag along with a baloney or peanut butter sandwich :)
@ OhioMom ... I ate so much baloney as a kid, I won't touch it now! We used to FRY it, of all things! And sardines! We ate those oily little bodies on crackers at least three times a week, when we weren't fishing vienna sausages out of short cans. Oh no ... look what you started! Thanks for that fab SBC recipe, which I plan to try very soon!
Yes--I was much smaller! By the way, I didn't get to go but the Good News Club at church took it's volunteers to Delamater's as a surprise. I hear they all enjoyed it along with a tour of the Opera House.
Hey...aren't you that pretty lady I saw on ABC News the other night?! ;-)
Excellent blog post. You're right -- what good are all of these technological advances if we lose our freedoms? Oh sure, iPods are great. But if I'm someday forbidden from ever listening to songs about God -- whether it's a Christian song or a rock song -- the iPod's sleek styling and convenience will lose most all of its appeal to me.
Great story! We had a gold Pinto for a while. My sister & I bounced around the back of that hoping we wouldn't be rear-ended & burst into flames! Lucky for us, my dad had a series of "shortcuts" up his sleeves!
@ Lyn ... we still need to meet at Delamater's for lunch someday! I love that Monte Cristo sandwich. It's a longer drive for you than for me, but if you're going to be over this way, let me know!
@ Kev ... LOL ... did you see me? I don't know about pretty, but I was the lady trying to stick up for the little babies! I'm grateful the Lord used me. And ditto, about our iPods or anything else we can buy being useless if we are no longer free. Looks like we are already on that slippery slope.
@ Aunt Cindy ... I remember the hatchback Pintos! They were popular when I was a teenager. My good friend Joy had one in orange & cream ... we called it the dreamsicle. I'm glad your Dad knew the shortcuts and kept you safe. Thanks for stopping by!
I will admit that I recently succumb to the allure of a GPS, and after much resistance I must say - I love the d*** thing! I suspect however, that before long will lose all sense of direction as I rely more and more heavily on my trusty GPS. It’s sort of like how I can no longer remember a single phone number, now that I have come to rely completely on my cell phone to keep track of the numbers and names of acquaintances and loved ones alike - all stored neatly in alphabetical order. And as I give away these seemly meaningless chores to my “repertoire of non-human helps” I sometimes forget that not too long ago, I had the ability to recall a simple phone number or to navigate through my town without my modern conveniences.
And as our government, the same benevolent government which mandates our children be “strapped like jet pilots into government-regulation car seats”, incrementally chip away at our freedoms and liberties; I fear that that those too will someday be little more then fleeting memories of a different time.
Thank you Jenny! Thank you for conjuring up fond memories of those trips in the families 69 Chevrolet Bel Air; not stolen, but un-air conditioned and HOT all the same! Thank you too for reminding us not to rely too heavily on our technology or our government.
Like you, I too long for the pre-GPS America that I recall, and I want it back for my children and your grandchildren alike.
@ SocialistRant ... thank you for that beautiful and thoughtful comment! Yesterday Karl Rove sent me (and I suspect all his thousands of followers) a succinct Direct Message on Twitter: "We can turn it around." I believe that both our heavenly Architect and Karl, the wonderful conservative Architect, are among those upon whose wisdom we can rely to do just that. Lets turn this car around and go back to the future.
This is just really great writing. I could see it all happening as you described it. Makes me want to go back there.