Growing Up Southern: September 17, 2017

Sometimes I think back about things I’ve done in life and wonder, “how in the world did I do that?” Sometimes I wonder, “why?”

Take vacations, for example. As newlyweds, we thought it would be awfully nifty to take a vacation. (Nifty is a fine old word that can be used as a replacement for the tiresome “awesome.” Pray do).

Only problem was, we had very little money to spend on vacations. So, for the price of one night in a motel, we bought a tent from Sears and borrowed an ice chest from someone. We put some ice in the chest along with sandwich fixings and soft drinks, loaded them in the car, along with swimming attire and few clothes, and headed for the panhandle of Florida, now known as “the Redneck Riviera.”

As they say down South, we “was getting ready to do it in tall cotton.” One of the more pleasant memories of my life is watching my trophy wife bending over the front seat rest making us sandwiches from the ice chest in the back so we didn’t even have to stop for meals. Have I mentioned that she had this knockdown gorgeous figure? Well she did. It was sure worth watching. Still is.

 

See what I mean?

There was this national seashore at Pensacola that had a campground. It had the bay on one side and the Gulf of Mexico on the other. We arrived there without mishap and picked out a good spot. We pitched our tent under what passed as a shade tree, set up chairs, and commenced to vacation.

Have I mentioned that it was over a hundred degrees under what passed as a shade tree? Well it was. A can of beer, retrieved from under a blanket of ice, would reach ambient temperature during the journey from ice chest to chair. Sweat would roll down your body even if you didn’t move. Any metal left uncovered would quickly become too hot to touch. Food spoiled in the heat and clothes stayed sticky at all times.

But, you know what? We’ve stayed in some pretty fancy digs during our 44-year marriage, and the fact is, we’ve never been happier than we were in that sweltering Florida heat.

Did I mention that, one day, we purchased a whole chest full of shrimp, boiled them that evening, took them to the beach, and ate every damn one of them while we watched the sun go down? Well we did. It’s the only time in our long experience that I’ve seen Brenda eat all the shrimp she wanted.

I guess it wasn’t too bad, even given the heat and all. We came back year after year. There’s something to be said for being young and not knowing any better.

Camping Partner … after we could afford
a cookstove and bountiful eyeglasses.