Tell about a favorite childhood vacation.
One summer, long ago, my dad and his brother decided to visit an elderly aunt who lived in Nova Scotia. We lived in New Jersey and my uncle lived far away in California at the time. After a bit of planning, it was decided that my cousin and I would accompany them on this trip. I was quite thrilled because it's always a treat to go off somewhere with your dad and have him all to yourself for a little while. I also looked forward to spending some time with my cousin whom I'd met only once before. I was almost 14 and he was around 12 years old.
We drove from New Jersey to Maine and then took a huge ferry, the Bluenose, car and all, over to Nova Scotia. I'm afraid I don't remember much about my great Aunt Lida. However, I do remember a couple of amusing incidents that occurred during our visit.
When we were still in Maine, my dad ordered a drink before dinner at a restaurant. I don't think it was anything too exotic, my dad wasn't much of a drinker and certainly not an exotic one at that! The bar was in clear view from our table and it was soon obvious that the bartender had no idea how to make this drink. He was rapidly thumbing through the pages of a small book looking for some clue as to how to begin. Within a short time, my dad was presented with a margarita in a martini glass, minus the traditonal salt around the rim and a maraschino cherry was lurking redly at the bottom. Now that I think about it, I guess Maine is a long way from Arizona which is where my folks picked up the habit of enjoying an occasional margarita. Words cannot describe the look that was on my father's face!
Several days later we found ourselves in a nice restaurant following an afternoon of visiting with my aunt. That is, we thought it was a nice restaurant--we were the only patrons there at the time. Hmmm.. Some of us ordered steak and no steak knives arrived with the meal. It was hard going, trying to cut the meat with the regular knife that was part of the table setting. My dad asked the waitress for some steak knives, please. She appeared to give the matter some serious thought and headed off towards the kitchen. She was gone for some time. Eventually, she returned with one sharp knife for us to share. It wasn't a traditional steak knife. In fact, it looked like the one and only knife that was to be found in the entire kitchen.
These were the kind of situations which start out to be somewhat annoying, begin to gather steam and ultimately end up to be very funny in the telling and retelling. I know, I know...you had to be there. My dad was a dear man but he was more of a serious, scholarly type than jocular. It was marvelous to share some great laughs with him during the course of this little junket. It wasn't a very long trip but it left me with some very special memories of my father.
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1 comment:
Oh, Meredith, these are wonderful stories. I kind of wish I had had moments like this with my dad when I was that age... We did have some moments, but they were more of the "being held captive in a fishing boat in the rain at 5 o'clock in the morning" type. Didn't really appreciate them when they were happening... Lisa :-]
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