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| My Mother |
I
would be remiss if I didn’t mention that it was my Mother’s birthday yesterday.
She passed away 15 years ago, but her influence on me remains; as well it
should. She was the glue that kept the
family together and the driver of the family chariot. My father never got a
driver’s license and my Mom was tasked with driving the boat-sized Plymouth
Fury II in all our escapades. It was a massive smooth sailing automobile that we finally purchased in 1968 when I was twelve. Previous to buying the Plymouth we would take mass transit buses or the PATH or walk. We would walk to Newark for the museum, go on NJ Transit sponsored bus trips to places like the Statue of Liberty, or rely on an uncle to take us to the beach once a summer. Mom never really liked going to the shore and preferred the "mountains".
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| 1968 Plymouth Fury II |
Our fortunes and horizons broadened with the purchase of the Plymouth. I remember marveling at the gleaming white car that we somehow were finally able to afford. It was quite the luxury for this burgeoning blue collar family and soon thereafter we discovered the joys of road trips! Dad served as the "navigator" picking out destinations for us and the bumpers of the Plymouth were emblazoned with stickers noting our escapades. Places like Space Farms and the Land of Make Believe and Wild West City were just a few of the wacky NJ destinations we visited. You see, we never really drove very far from home; it was all day trips. The farthest ventures were to the Wilkes-Barre / Scranton area where we had family.
Though I was playfully ridiculed by friends because of the bumper stickers and their child-friendly destinations; I was already a teenager that first summer; I didn't mind piling in the car and just going...anywhere. The freedom of the car was incredible. No longer were we stuck in a hot apartment in a hot city; we could just take off and make a left or a right as we saw fit. There were countless choruses of "The Bear Went Over The Mountain" sung by the family as we drove along and we didn't seem to mind that it took a long time to get there. Dad, you see, was a really bad navigator. He often ditched the maps and would bark out turns at the very last second and Mom would take them seemingly on two wheels! That is, after cussing him a bit.
Yeah... to see what's around that corner or over that hill has inspired much of my traveling. Janet now calls it "Greg's Way," but I learned from my Mom.
Happy Birthday Mom.
BTW My Mom was very pretty and it's not just me saying this. She was voted the Best Looking Girl of Harrison High School's class of 1949.
I look like my Dad.......
