Family Road Trip: 2010 vs. 1965

I recently went on a road trip with my daughter, her husband and four children. It really made me think about what technology has done to our society. We are so "plugged in" that we're "unplugged" when it comes to spending time with our families. Everyone had their own "thing" going.

That beautifully scenic trip from south Texas, (close to Corpus Christi,) to Abilene and back made me remember the times when I was a child and we drove across country for one reason or another. I started a comparison.

In 1965, my parents prepared for a trip. Daddy would load an ice chest with ice and all kinds of sodas, ranging from Coke and Dr. Pepper to rootbeer and Delaware Punch. (You have to be a Texan to know that one!) When it was time for a drink, it was ice cold and in a glass bottle. Mom would make some type of sandwich filling, (Usually Spam salad, which was made with boiled eggs, pickles, mayonnaise, and of course, shredded Spam,) and pack bread, chips, and cookies. At lunchtime, we'd stop at a roadside park and have a picnic. Spam salad never tasted as good as it did in the fresh air. Mom kept the bowl on top of the cokes in the ice chest, so it stayed cool, and we made our sandwiches right then and there so they wouldn't be soggy.

In 2010, my daughter also made sandwiches. She chose pimiento cheese and tuna, but she learned a lesson when the tuna sandwiches all got soggy before we ate. (in the car) She also packed drinks, but they were all bottled water, which was better for us than those sodas, but it sure didn't taste as good. Besides, what's better for the environment? In 1965, we kept the glass bottles and turned them in for the deposit. They were reused, which cut down on litter. In 2010, I keep remembering the commercial they show on television of all those plastic bottles and what they are doing to the Earth. When are we going to stop? When we are all neck-deep in plastic?

In 1965, Daddy would cut a piece of plywood to exactly fit between the back seat and the front seat. Under it, he packed stuff, and on top, my brother and I had a great view of the scenery. (No seat belts, of course!) We took blankets and pillows, coloring books, and colors, (crayons,) and Travel Bingo. Mom would call out items from the list as she saw them, and my brother and I competed to see who'd bingo first. When we got bored with that, we'd color or just watch the scenery. We SAW the country, or at least the state. If we were traveling through a busy city, (like downtown Houston,) Mom would say, "Now lay down and be quiet! Your dad gets nervous driving through Houston." We'd lie down on our pillows and be as quiet as a 6 and 4-year-old could be, which usually wasn't all that quiet.

In 2010, the Ford Explorer was packed. I sat in the front with my son-in-law or daughter, depending on which one was driving at the time. In the middle was the other parent, my 9-year-old granddaughter, and her almost 3-year-old sister, dutifully strapped into her car seat. In the third seat, sat the 6-year-old strapped in her booster chair, with her 8-year-old brother beside her. They all had a perfect view of the scenery passing by as we made the drive. Unfortunately, everyone was too busy to enjoy the view. It was so sad to me that every time I said, "Hey, kids! Look at that!", I would usually get the response, "They're not listening. They're too busy with their movies." It was true, too. There were so many electronic gadgets in that car that it's a wonder we made it down the road without becoming a sad case of spontaneous combustion!

Starting in the third seat, both kids had portable DVD players and each had on a different movie. I have no idea how they concentrated on what they were watching, as neither one had ear phones. My grandson also had his cell phone, and we'd periodically have a "text" conversation. Behind me, the baby had her own DVD player, and the 9-year-old divided her time between watching the baby's movie and playing her Nintendo DS. At one point, my son-in-law sat behind me, headphones blocking out the noise from the children, as he surfed the Internet on his laptop. At those times, my daughter and I at least enjoyed the view together or had true person-to-person communication.

Then, when my son-in-law drove, they switched places, she plugged in to the lap top, and he and I did some talking. I enjoyed those conversations. We never seem to have the time to just talk. There's always too much going on.

Then there were complaints about the level of music he had playing, but he responded that he had to hear it to drive. In 1965, the radio, if it was on, had to be constantly switched as we drove, because the AM stations usually didn't broadcast very far. Their signals just didn't have the strength. Often, if we were in hilly country, the music became static when we went down, then it would be music again on top of the hill. In 2010, there was no need to worry about the radio stations, as my son-in-law had his I-pod plugged into a dock that ran it through the radio and we all listened to his music in stereo. That was fine when I liked what he was playing, but it wasn't so great when it was too loud, or not music to my liking.

Then I remembered something...in my bag was my own MP3 player, with my own music. As the baby started getting fussy, and the the adults started getting grouchy, I retreated into my own world. I plugged my ears with ear phones, turned on my music, closed my eyes, leaned back against my pillow, and let Lynnard Skynnard, Boston, and Aerosmith take me away. Hmmm....maybe technology isn't all that bad.

Daddy's Secret

Daddy’s Secret

“Daddy, I need help!”

“You’re doing fine. Just hold the tip of your rod up and keep reeling.”

“I can’t! It’s too big! I’m going to lose it!”

“Just keep trying. It’s your fish, and you’ve got to reel it in.”

We were in Bayside, Texas around 1966. My brother, 2 ½ years my junior, my dad, and I were out on the end of the pier. I hooked a monster fish, and set the hook just the way Daddy had taught me. It must have been huge, because I was having a hard time reeling it in. Of course, I lost that fish, and I was very angry with my dad for letting me lose it. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized he was trying to teach me a lesson.

Like all little girls, I was Daddy’s princess. That was easy, since I was the only daughter. When I was in trouble, my mother would threaten, “Just wait until your daddy gets home!” I would sit in my room, (her orders,) dreading the time for Dad’s return.

Once he got home from work, my dad liked to sit in his easy chair and relax a bit before he had to deal with problems. When I was finally summoned into the living room, I’d walk in, awaiting my sentence.

“Your mama tells me you’re in trouble,” he’d start the conversation. “You want to tell me what happened?”

No matter what I’d done, the sentence was usually the same. “Go tell your mama you’re sorry, and we’ll forget it.” My dad was a big softy.

Daddy never treated me differently because I was a girl. Any place he took my brother, I was invited, and usually went. Fishing trips, hikes down dry creek beds looking for arrowheads, and target practice were open to both of us, and not just “the guys.”

One thing I learned over the years was that no matter what my gender, I could achieve any goal I set if I worked hard enough. That was Daddy’s biggest gift to me. The knowledge that my being a girl didn’t change things one bit.

Daddy always challenged me. If I came home with a 95 on a spelling test, he’d tease me, “Who got the other five points?” I’d usually laugh with him, but the next week, I had a 100. I didn’t always make 100s, but I did well in school. Like all little girls, I wanted my dad to be proud of me.

No matter what I did, or where I went, I always knew that my parents were behind me. When I was 29, and my marriage ended, I found myself a single mother with three children, ages 4, 6, and 8. We lived out of state, so when I called my parents, my dad said to me, “Come home, and bring those babies with you. We’ll sort it out together.” And we did.

When I decided I needed to return to school to become a teacher, my parents were always there with a helping hand. They watched my children all through night classes in a neighboring town.

When I wanted to buy a car, I went to Daddy for advice first.

When I was ready to start dating again, I asked my Daddy what he thought about my intended. Daddy’s opinion meant a lot to me.

Right after I graduated with my teaching degree, I did remarry, but until then, my dad was like a father to my children. Their dad lived out of state, and saw them maybe twice while they were growing up. Grandpa, however, was always there. He played games, built birdhouses with them, and regaled them with story after story of his adventures in the Navy, and as a boy growing up in a small town. He ruled with an iron hand, however, and they knew that obedience was always expected.

Daddy’s number one rule was, “Always respect your elders.” My eldest son once told me about a time he’d said something derogatory about his grandmother. He never forgot the browbeating he received.

“I don’t care what you think. That’s my wife and your grandmother, and I never want to hear anything like that come out of your mouth again!” It never did, and that’s a lesson he’s never forgotten.

When I remarried, Daddy quietly stepped back into his Grandpa role, and let my husband take over the fathering one. No fuss, no bother. However, my children still tell me about how he influenced their lives, and how that influence impacts the way they are raising their children.

Unfortunately, my dad never got to be a great-grandpa. He passed away in 1998, and my first grandchild wasn’t born until 2001. He still watches over us, however, and we found that out in a unique way.

One day, Caleb, my then three-year-old grandson saw a picture I had placed standing up on the tower of my computer. He said to me, “Hey! That’s you daddy!”

“How did you know that was my daddy?” I asked him.

“He’s my great-grandpa!” he replied.

I smiled and asked, “Is your mother telling you stories about your great-grandpa?”

Serious brown eyes looked up into mine and this is what he said.

“No, Grandma. My great-grandpa talks to me.”

“Caleb, when does Great-Grandpa talk to you?” I asked cautiously.

“In my sleep.”

“How long has me been talking to you in your sleep?”

“All the time.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked away, like it was no big deal.

So Daddy, I discovered your secret. You ARE still around, and you DO know your great-grandchildren. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

When I told my mother what Caleb had said, her response was, “I’m not surprised. Your dad loved you kids a lot. He’d want to keep an eye on all of you.”

And so he does. I think that’s just wonderful.

And Daddy, just in case you’re reading this….I love you, and I’ll see you again someday.

Poem from April's Newsletter

I wrote this poem several years ago, but each spring, I dig it out, because it reminds me of why I LOVE this time of year.

SPRING IN SOUTH TEXAS

As I sit on the front porch, I can see from my chair:

A field of bluebonnets rolling like the gulf as each individual flower waves its head in the breeze.

Cream-colored yucca blooms popping open like popcorn, reaching up towards the warmth of the spring sun.

Multi-colored hummingbirds buzzing like hornets as they strive to keep the feeder free from competition.

My 2-year-old grandson as he laughingly chases a butterfly through the sea of wildflowers where my husband “forgot” to mow.

Spring’s newest crop of bunnies teasing the dog by playing within “paw’s” reach, only to dart into the brush the minute she gets too close.

Brightly-hued green jays screeching their displeasure that once again I’ve let their feeder go empty.

These are the signs that it is Spring in South Texas.

Winter’s brief chill is all but forgotten.

Summer’s broiling heat too far off to worry about.

This is when I’m glad I live where I do.

Springtime—my favorite time of the year.

Spring is when I know that I live in God’s country—the closest I’ll ever get to Heaven on earth!

©2004 by Carol Riley Cain

"What to Do" Today

If you are in the South Texas area today, come to Goliad, and visit the Presidio Labahia. Today and tomorrow we reenact the massacre of Colonel James W. Fannin and his group of Texian soldiers by Santa Anna's men in 1836 during the battle for Texan independence.

We start about 10:00 on the lawn in front of the presidio. After the battle, you are welcome to come inside the compound and witness life during that period of Texas' history. The following link will take you to an article I wrote for our local newspaper about this event.
http://www.mysoutex.com/view/full_story/6776530/article-Life-in-the-Presidio-La-Bahia-returns-to-March-1836?instance=bee_regional_news

First Edition of Newsletter is Printed and Ready!

I am so excited! The first edition of the South Texas "What to Do" Newsletter has been printed and is ready for me to hand out on Friday! If anyone would like to see an advance copy, just e-mail me at whattodo2010@att.net, and I can send you a PDF.

I want to thank all my Facebook friends, who have really supported me in all this, but I also can't forget my advertisers! Hopefully, the first edition will interest more people in advertising with me!

Have a great rest of the week!

Carol

A Letter From Jack

10 Steps to Getting Adopted

1. Scout around and find a home that has a dog or two. This means they like animals.

2. Start by appearing out in the yard. Look pitiful.

3. Be persistent. When they stomp their feet, look like you’re running away, but don’t go far.

4. Appear on the family’s front porch in the morning. Look VERY pitiful.

5. Limp a little and hang out your tongue. This makes you look injured and thirsty.

6. Suck in your gut as far as you can. The hungrier you look, the better off you’ll be.

7. Flop down, like you are dying of hunger. Look at the master with puppy dog eyes.

8. When they bring you food, don’t act too excited. Look as if you are almost too weak to eat, but thump your tail in appreciation.

9. After you have eaten, go to the one who fed you and thank them with appropriate tail-wagging and kisses in the face.

10. Stick around, eventually, they will take you in. In my case, not only did they take me in, but they built a fence around my yard. They love me! :-p

Spooky Stories from the Lone Star State

Little sister to Ghosts, Spooks, and Spirits of South Texas, Spooky Stories from the Lone Star State was published in 2008. Like the first book, this is a book of stories inspired by reports of true paranormal encounters as told to me by other Texas residents.

Unlike the first book, this one has some of my personal experiences as a paranormal investigator with Corpus Christi Spook Central. The following is from the back:

There was no electricity in the upstairs of the grand old house. There we sat, my friend and I, cross-legged on the bare wooden floor. We were the only two people in that portion of the house. The three women downstairs were busy watching the monitors of the infrared cameras.

"Is there anybody here who would like to communicate?" I intoned in the darkness. The headphones attached to the parabolic microphone were beginning to make my ears sweat. It was only my second ghost investigation, and I was still a little nervous. What would I do if I heard a voice?

"Can you give us a sign that you are here?" my friend asked the spirit that was reportedly haunting this house. I was so heavily into trying to pick up a sound, any sign of a ghost, that when I got it, I just about jumped out of my skin...

To find out more, read Spooky Stories from the Lone Star State. How can you get a copy? Just send an e-mail to ghostbook@sbcglobal.net, and I'll send you details.