Enter my Stuckey's T-shirt.
Ah yes, Stuckey's. We will leave out the story that my mother has told approximately one billion times regarding a young writer/broadcaster and the Pecan/candy/snack/junk shop, and just step ahead to the above shirt, bought for a bargain at the location on US 13 in Virginia on the Delmarva Peninsula.
It reminds me of youth. It reminds me of my dad, of course. It reminds me of family trips, souvenirs, maps, french fries, an ice cold Coca Cola, and the simplicity of the road trip.
It's good nostalgia, and yet a sad reminder that most of those same roadside spots are gone, replaced by homogenous chains.
It's also a reminder of a young boy who, in his excitement, nearly made his father drive off an interstate at the site of "Stickey's."
Yes. Youth.
No comments:
Post a Comment