Nita
and I are on a road trip to see the red rocks of Sedona, Arizona and the Grand
Canyon. Just she and me. No kids, no grandkids, no parents, no siblings, no
friends, not even a dog. It’s been a few years since we’ve done such a trip. As
I drove and drove crossing the great Southwest Desert in three big-ass states,
I kept making comparisons to Nita’s and my first long road trip made as
newlyweds in 1972.
Then:
Our car was an 8-year old Chevy pick-up truck with over 100,000 miles on it. No
air-conditioning, no seatbelts. Crank-up windows, 4-on-the-floor standard
transmission. It drank oil by the quart
and had a leaky radiator. The truck bed was covered with a plywood camper shell
my dad and I made and was painted blue and green on the outside and yellow and
orange on the inside. Home on the road.
Now:
Our car is a 6-year old Japanese Nissan 4-door sedan with power everything and
84,000 miles on it. Still runs like new.
Then:
We drove 50-60 mph on state highways marked as blue lines on big folding
highway maps. We listened to local AM radio stations when we could get a
signal. Otherwise, I guess we chatted a lot. After all, we were still getting
to know each other.
Now:
We drove 75-80 mph on Interstates using Nita’s cell phone map app. It talks to
us giving directions, and warning of traffic jams. We listen to satellite
radio, NPR podcasts stored on Nita’s phone, and custom-designed music CD’s Nita
made at home. And we still talk, now about kids, grandkids, the woes of aging, and
politics. I wish I could remember what we talked about back then.
Then: We
parked overnight at little roadside parks and state parks, sleeping on a piece
of foam padding in the camper under grandma’s homemade quilt for cover. For
entertainment, I read a novel holding the paperback just-so as to catch enough
light from the liquid-fuel Coleman lantern that had to be pumped up to burn and
had a cloth wick that turned to ash, but magically never fell apart. After the
light went out, we…well, we did what newlyweds do before we went to sleep. You
know, if the truck be rockin’, don’t come knockin’.
Now:
We stay at Holiday Inn Express hotels and bed-and-breakfast inns, sleeping on a
new-age no-springs mattress in air-conditioning under synthetic sheets. For
entertainment, I read a novel on my backlit Kindle and we watch NBA play-off
games on TV. After the light goes out we…well, we sleep.
Last Holiday Inn Note:
The only thing we did at Holiday Inns back then was steal ice to fill our
Coleman ice chest. They put the ice machine on the first floor as a public
service, right?
Then:
We bought food at local grocery stores and ate sandwiches or cooked meals on a
Coleman stove, also something that used liquid fuel and had to be pumped to
work. We used the truck tailgate if no cement picnic table was handy. Sometimes
we used the park-built fire grate or even a campfire.
Now:
We spend a lot of money at restaurants.
Then:
To see tourist sites, we parked and walked on sidewalks and hiked on trails. We
took the commuter train-subway to downtown Philadelphia to see the Liberty
Bell.
Now:
We take day-tours, this time in a pink jeep one day, and a van the next.
Then:
Happy hour was a couple of cans of cheap beer quaffed outside leaning agianst
the truck.
Now:
Happy hour is a shared bottle of Chardonnay. (For my reenacting pards: That’s
white wine.) Usually sipped outside in some garden or restaurant patio.
Then:
I had an old 35mm SLR Canon camera and a hand-held light meter that I’d bought
used for a college class, and it had no auto anything. Great camera,
nonetheless. But we had to ration the number of times we pushed the button,
because film was expensive and developing film was expensive.
Now:
Our damned cell phones take great pics. Point and shoot, of course. And there’s
no limit to the number of clicks we can afford. And getting the chosen just-right photo from the camera to this page appears to be beyond my technical abilities. So, imagine there's a picture right here of our nice B & B with a great scenic view.
Then:
Practically everyone we knew was ‘poor,’ so the scrimping didn’t bother us. It
was nice to be very young newly weds, seeing places for the first time--together,
starting a box of ‘Phil & Nita’ memories.
Now:
I freely confess it is nice to not to have to scrimp on every expenditure. We
really like eating out and driving a car that hums along year after year. And
we’re still adding layers to that box of Phil & Nita memories.
By the way,
this very day is Nita’s 70th birthday, and we’re going off-the-pavement
pink-jeeping (as tourists in the back seat of an open jeep) this morning,
hiking this afternoon, and out to a nice restaurant for dinner.
