Late one Friday night, my mom and dad left for Gatlinburg. We had been at the church until 1:00am. We were involved in this program called “The Final Word.” Those were some good days. Each night of the event, we finished late. My mom and dad were supposed to meet the senior adults in Gatlinburg. Go figure, senior adults going to Gatlinburg. That’s a new one. Did you realize that leaves can’t change colors if senior adults don’t make an annual pilgrimage to Gatlinburg? That is one of those things you won’t ever be able to disprove because they will always be going. Anyway, mother and daddy left late that night.
My mom and dad used to drive Lincoln Towncars. They are those boats that you see which also operate on land. They float down the road like a recliner on wheels. I believe that is why my dad liked them. He could almost lay down and drive the thing. He drove with a less aggressive fervor than I ever did.
One day, my dad and I were in Jasper. This was several years ago. I was driving us around. I honked my horn at a guy because he was driving like an idiot. My dad said, “I never honk my horn.” He was trying to tell me that it makes people nervous and it’s rude or something like that. I told him that the reason he didn’t like me honking the horn at the guy is because he was always that guy.
So mother and daddy are on their way to Gatlinburg, cruising in the Towncar. Daddy was driving. The cruise was set to 75 mph. They were bearing down on interstate. I’ll try to give you a picture of the interior.
The seats were supple burgundy leather. The carpet was plush pile. The seats were large. They felt like they wrapped around you. Here was my mom with plenty of room and much comfort. She was laid back with her head tilted to the side catching up on some much needed sleep. My dad of course was in the driver’s seat. He too was comfortable as he cruised down the interstate, engulfed in the luxurious ride to the town car. He too had his head tilted, his mouth open, and his eyes shut. Yes, much like a scene from Chevy Chase’s movie, “Vacation,” my dad was knocked out.
As the two ton piece of steel raced down the interstate, my dad was catching up on his sleep too. At 75mph, this death trap was on its on. My dad and mom woke up of course as they careened into the back of a van. They immediately jumped up. My dad regained control of the vehicle, pulled to the side, and got out, shaken but not stirred. He surveyed the damage and braced himself for the impending conflict.
The man driving the van was not too upset. His wife had a different perspective. She must have been a fellow horn blower.
Everyone survived without injury. Even the vehicles were not harmed. As always, daddy lands on both feet smelling like a rose.
My mom and dad used to drive Lincoln Towncars. They are those boats that you see which also operate on land. They float down the road like a recliner on wheels. I believe that is why my dad liked them. He could almost lay down and drive the thing. He drove with a less aggressive fervor than I ever did.
One day, my dad and I were in Jasper. This was several years ago. I was driving us around. I honked my horn at a guy because he was driving like an idiot. My dad said, “I never honk my horn.” He was trying to tell me that it makes people nervous and it’s rude or something like that. I told him that the reason he didn’t like me honking the horn at the guy is because he was always that guy.
So mother and daddy are on their way to Gatlinburg, cruising in the Towncar. Daddy was driving. The cruise was set to 75 mph. They were bearing down on interstate. I’ll try to give you a picture of the interior.
The seats were supple burgundy leather. The carpet was plush pile. The seats were large. They felt like they wrapped around you. Here was my mom with plenty of room and much comfort. She was laid back with her head tilted to the side catching up on some much needed sleep. My dad of course was in the driver’s seat. He too was comfortable as he cruised down the interstate, engulfed in the luxurious ride to the town car. He too had his head tilted, his mouth open, and his eyes shut. Yes, much like a scene from Chevy Chase’s movie, “Vacation,” my dad was knocked out.
As the two ton piece of steel raced down the interstate, my dad was catching up on his sleep too. At 75mph, this death trap was on its on. My dad and mom woke up of course as they careened into the back of a van. They immediately jumped up. My dad regained control of the vehicle, pulled to the side, and got out, shaken but not stirred. He surveyed the damage and braced himself for the impending conflict.
The man driving the van was not too upset. His wife had a different perspective. She must have been a fellow horn blower.
Everyone survived without injury. Even the vehicles were not harmed. As always, daddy lands on both feet smelling like a rose.
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