This year, Mom and Dad got lost leaving their hotel in the morning, after a night on the road. Again, I have to believe that the signs leading travelers back to 95 are clearly marked, but I wasn’t there, so I can’t say for sure. The story according to Dad is that he wanted gas and did not want to pay the prices at the stations right off the highway. So he drove into town to pay what the locals pay. I could stop right here and I am sure you can figure out what happened next. Yes, you guessed it. He took the ‘scenic route.’ He made a wrong turn out of the gas station and found himself driving down a road where on the side of the street members of the local Kiwanis club were roasting a pig at 10:00 in the morning for an all-you-can-eat pork barbecue.
“Doesn’t it bother you at all that you get lost so often?” I asked Dad after he told me this tale.
“You know it really wasn’t a bad deal. Only five bucks a head,” Dad answered me. “I should have tried some. But who wants to eat barbecue at 10:00 in the morning?” he asked.
“Dad, forget about the barbecue. Doesn’t it bother you that you get lost all the time?”
“Nah, I made up the time,” he replied.
“At least the town didn’t warrant the ‘Lock All Doors!’ scream,” I told him. It did, however, give Mom and Dad a view of life in a small southern town, and gave Dad a reason to drive 85 again once he got back on the highway.