JUST GETTING THERE
First of all, cargo capacity. I mean, we’ve got the sleeping bags, ice chests, tents and floaty toys, but the initial issue is finding a rig with nine seat belts, interior cargo capacity and a roof rack with a multitude of tie-down hooks that’ll handle biz.
No problem. Got an ‘86 Suburban, non fuel injected. That’s right, 5 maybe 6 miles to the gallon, uphill or downhill. Not the prettiest thing in the world, and you can believe there isn’t any working AC or a DVD mounted to the ceiling with a 10-inch TFT screen from Best Buy for $2,200.
The eight-track works darn well enough though.
Then, kid organization. Who’s coming with ‘em? Which friends? Who’s compatible? Four different age groups with four different sets of needs/egos to be addressed.
Packing. It’ll be warm during the day, cool at night. Lawn chairs. Bikes. Flashlights, cook stoves, tents, lanterns and cooking utensils. Swimming and fishing gear. Forget it, just bring the whole house.
Seating arrangements. Who’s gonna get the beat-down? How far can I reach back to smack while passing a Wal-Mart truck on Fourth of July Pass going 75 mph past the Uranus Creek exit?
We’re packed, kids are loaded (seven of them), rig’s loaded up.
“Who has to go pee? We are not stopping. Repeat — not stopping.”
Cruising now, going 65 on I-90 east toward the Panhandle.
Bobby calls Terry a dork which results in Bobby getting smacked upside the head with Terry’s Burger King flashlight, which results in him splashing part of his Mountain Dew on Timmy who thought it was Stephanie but actually hit Becca with GI Hummer featuring the .50-cal. AA attachment thus making her flip her licorice on Jake who was minding his own business, for a change, just talking to Dennis about the new System of a Down CD which apparently isn’t as heavy as their old stuff.
My girlfriend was too busy waving at truckers to notice it all, of course.
Where’s that sound-proofing technology? Can’t Bose sound labs come up with a cone of silence for the back of rigs? One that doubles as a pee receptacle?
I’d pay 2,200 bucks for that!