"Let's get the show on the road!" my father always said when he got impatient. I always imagined us as small circus ensemble as we'd rush to get into the car. It felt like he was ready to drive off without us if we didn't hustle. Dad loved to drive. If it were a long trip he'd have a thermos of coffee that he'd refill again and again at truck stops along the way. Day or night, he'd drink coffee and drive.
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When I was a young boy I would visit, with my grandparents, my great-great uncle's farm in South Jersey. That part of New Jersey, in those days, was flat and rural. I haven't been there in many years but I imagine it's still flat and probably less rural. I've heard stories that Uncle Walt's farm is now a condominium complex, a thought that often saddens me. For, in those days, the farm was a place both exotic and foreign, a spot where nothing much happened and nothing at all ever changed.