“Because I’m bored is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless; it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing. So you don’t get to be bored.”
Louis C.K. – Comedian

When I was a child, saying “I’m bored” was the kiss of death. It caused an actual physical reaction from my mom. And not an insignificant reaction either. I recall an eye twitch or two and a shoulder hunch maneuver that involved my exasperated mother to initially slouch in defeat, only to watch her rise in what now I see as a glorious movement resembling something like the Dementors from Harry Potter. Her fingers appeared to grow in front of me, long and sinewy, carefully painted in mauve, pointing directly at me with pursed lips ready to spew a relentless diatribe that always began with “only unintelligent people are bored.”

Um, ok. How does one respond to that statement exactly? Saying, “Well, I am bored,” only stood to solidify her point. Arguing to the contrary only prolonged the invective but saying nothing gave her an unequivocal win. I usually gave her the win. Afterall, she was right. Yep, that’s what I am saying. My mom was right. Still, I was a kid and sometimes I was a bit slow on the uptake and I’d have these unfortunate lapses in memory and utter the verboten phrase: I’m bored. And the Dementor resurfaced. Repeatedly. Stronger than ever.

Now let me say this, the times I generally pronounced my boredom I was usually in the backseat of my parents metallic blue Cutlass Supreme (that was a ride folks, let me tell you), travelling across country to either a new duty station or going home to visit family in Texas and Oklahoma. Hours upon hours, mile after mile, I was in my little world, equipped with a pillow and blanket, stuffed animals and books, with the radio playing in the background. You may find this hard to imagine but back in the day when we started these family trips we didn’t have smart phones, iPods, or even the now very dated, Walkman. That’s right, we ALL listened to the same music. In the same space. At the same time. I shudder at the barbarity. This was also back in the day before we realized seatbelts were not only a good idea but a safety necessity. The fact anyone in my family has lived on to carry the family name forward is pretty much due to the fact that God was watching over us. You may call it “good luck” but I subscribe to the higher power theory. To each his own, right?

That backseat was my world. I spent hours reading Nancy Drew and Little House on the Prairie and A Wrinkle in Time and The Chronicles of Narnia and EVERY Judy Blume book known to civilization at that time (except Forever. That wouldn’t come until later and there was no way I’d read that within at least a 50 yard perimeter of my mom. Nope. No how.). But a person can only read so long in the backseat of a car without feeling a little carsick. That’s generally the time I’d somehow confuse the nausea in my gut with the idea of boredom. Bad move, kiddo.

The thing is, when I did put down my book and look out the window there really was a vast world out there right in from of us. All of us. We traveled from Tennessee to Oklahoma on more than one occasion and I can still envision the Memphis skyline as we rounded I-40 from the east. That bridge always seemed so huge to me. The countless times we traveled from the D.C. area back to see family are exceptionally strong memories. We’d pass over the George Washington Bridge and I’d get a glimpse of the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials. They were always magnificent, especially at night. Even as a kid I remember wondering what Lincoln and Jefferson would think if they could see the larger than life statues of themselves. I also thought that the Washington Monument was an amazing piece of architecture but it was odd that Lincoln and Jefferson had statues but the father of our country was nowhere to be seen. Although, I guess if you get your face on a quarter AND a dollar bill it’s a trade-off of sorts. I’d love to have attended that planning meeting. But I digress.

The point is, I saw a wide variety of our country in that ol’ Cutlass and the other cars that came before and after it. I’m not exactly certain why we never flew much but I think it had a great deal to do with packing and timing. And maybe a little control on the part of my parents. Visiting family is an already daunting experience but only worsened with having no vehicle with which to escape in case things get overwhelming. Yes, the love of family is a composite of the glorious and curious.

The night before we departed Mom always made fried chicken and potato salad lovingly packed in what was probably Tupperware. Yes, long before the days of Sistema or Yetis (the Yeti brings me great joy mind you. I’m not sure how we ever functioned as a society before its invention). You can’t stop and eat cold fried chicken at a rest stop of teepees if you’re on a plane. Lunch often ended with the fine dining dessert course of Oreos where my parents would chew them, then smile at me with those cookies gummed up on their front teeth. When I was younger, I thought it was funny but the older I became, I was horrified. They never stopped doing it and until I had kiddos I didn’t understand the elation one gets from the playful emotional torture of such activities. Next time you’re flying and look down at one of those “flyover states” remember there is probably some family down there eating a meal prepared with love by mom. And I hope they’re chomping on an Oreo or two, sticking it to the food police. Just one or two tasty little biscuits. All things in moderation, my friends.

Still, I want to set a good example for our twelve-year old son, one I feel we started with my two older step-daughters. They endured many long miles in the back of a Ford F-150 extended cab. Nope, not a lot of leg room. We drug those girls to hither and yon and some of our best family memories involve our adventures. They complained and groaned and slept a lot which I think may be in large part due to the fact that the blood flow to their lower extremities was limited. We didn’t have a lot of money back then so car travel was about the only feasible option. But we went places, I tell you! And I wouldn’t change one moment. They may never fully understand that those hours in the car are some of our best memories because we laughed and talked and ate together. Hours upon hours. Mile after mile. We were together. We didn’t stop traveling when their brother entered the picture either. We did upgrade to a Ford Expedition so there was a bit more leg room but there was also a gargantuan car seat and a sometimes cranky baby. Ah, those are memories folks.

I recognize kids today aren’t on the same playing field which I write with my best curmudgeonly scowl plastered on my face. In their defense, many of them have never known a world without fancy computer games or mobile phones or cars equipped with DVD players or, well, you get the point. Much to my chagrin, our son just received some contraption for his X-box that allows him to play it in the car or a hotel room. He’s never endured a long road trip where there wasn’t much else to do but stare at the barren stretch of road before you. His sisters were never without a DVD player in the car either. There are dozens of movies I’ve never seen but only heard blasting from the backseat. All I know is that Mary Kate and Ashley certainly were cheeky kids and that Anne Hathaway was an unsuspecting princess somewhere in a land called Monrovia. Our son cringes every time we stop at a roadside fruit stand or venture in to a small town for lunch at a small café or take an unplanned exit to see a weird roadside attraction. His sisters did too. But someday I hope they appreciate the point of it all and understand those endless miles of asphalt are the path to our family’s story. Most of our family inside jokes stem from our trips. I wouldn’t alter one moment.

This long-winded harangue, which I am wont to do, is basically what this blog is about. No, not that I can incessantly ramble. Focus on the content, please (insert emoji eye roll). Embrace all the remarkable places and people that surround you. Whether you’re on a vacation, going for a Sunday drive or merely running errands and going about your life, there is so much to see and do. Regardless whether you live in a big city or a small town, there is an adventure out there, a memory to capture; there’s a life to touch and something to see. When I read the quote from the comedian Louis C.K., I immediately thought, “Hell yea! You tell ‘em Louis.” For despite the obvious emotional scarring I may have from those moments in the blue Cutlass, and that I’m fairly positive we transposed to our kids, there’s a lot to be said for the concept that there is a vast world out there just waiting for each of us to see and experience. Yep, you got it. We don’t get to be bored. Thanks for the reminder, Louis.