A Smart Thing To Do

A little girls adventure with her dad, in 1963 America

One of my favorite memories occurred when my Dad and I went for a drive, to check on some acreage my parents had bought in the mountains, about an hour's drive from our house. There was a trailer on the property. We would camp out there, about one weekend per month, schedules permitting.

My Dad had asked my twin sister and little brother, if they wanted to go. They declined and secretly, I was thrilled to have some alone time with my Dad.

My Dad and I started off. Now, there were many country taverns on the way to the acreage. You could order a beer, hamburger, listen to the jukebox and some of them had an arcade game or two to play. We were on the road for about ten minutes, when my Dad asked if I wanted a soda pop.

Of course, even if I had known the expression, "Does a bear s**t in the woods?', I wouldn't have said it. Instead, I replied, "Sure, Dad!"

We pulled into the parking lot of a faded brown wooden tavern. There were five or six cars and trucks in the lot. As we walked in, heads turned our way, checking out the new arrivals. Shyly, I stood behind my Dad. My Dad's business called for him to meet many people he needed to sell his products, so he was quite personable, when he wanted to be. However, he was very equal to the task of telling you exactly what he thought, in no uncertain terms. I watched, as he shook hands all around. I don't remember if he introduced me or not. It could have gone either way. As a child, I had been taught that, especially around adults, children were not heard from and rarely, seen.

This tavern had several tables and chairs, plus a long counter with high stools. My Dad sat at one of these and I clamored up onto the one next to him. I looked around, seeing a cash register. It looked like it was made out of gold. It had ornate gold carvings and a golden handle. I watched, as the man behind the counter, pushed buttons and the machine made a whirring sound. A drawer would slide out and a bell inside made the most pleasant "ding" sound. Every time the man went to the machine, I watched, enthralled.

My Dad interrupted my staring with, "What do you want to drink, Barbie?"

"Orange Nehi, please." That was my favorite soda and would remain my favorite for years to come.

My Dad ordered a "Bergie", as he called it. This was short for Bergermeister, his favorite beer.

I looked around at the other customers. There was one lady, drinking and smoking a cigarette. She was talking to the man behind the counter. She had a deep voice and her laugh sounded gravelly. I knew my Mom wouldn't have approved of her. She had on a lot of blue eye shadow and black mascara. She wore bright red lipstick. Her face make-up was so thick, it made her wrinkles more prominent, instead of hiding them.
It seemed all the men wore the same uniform-jeans, a western style button down shirt with short or long sleeves and cowboy boots. A few were wearing their hats, while some of them had hung their hats on a hat rack. All of them had tan, weathered faces. A few of them had a mustache.

I got off my stool and walked over to the arcade game. I read the directions. Oh, I could do this! I went back to Dad and asked him if I could have the money to play a game. Getting money from Mom or Dad was never a sure bet. Mostly, it depended on why you wanted it. A yes or no could depend on what kind of a mood they were in at the time.

My Dad said, "Sure, here!" He smiled, handing me the money to play five times. As I walked away, Dad was laughing and talking with those around him.

I was in heaven! I dropped the first quarter into the machine and began to play. When that game was over,  I glanced over at my Dad. He was drinking a new beer, still laughing and talking. I dropped in the second coin. As I was playing, one of the cowboys came near me, slapped some change on the machine and said, "Here's for more games!" I looked at him, a little afraid. My parents had taught me not to speak to strangers. He had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes, but young as I was, I didn't think that meant he was okay. He chuckled, then hollered at my Dad, "Hey, Leo, tell your kid it's okay to take my money!"

I looked over at my Dad. He smiled and winked at me. "Go ahead, it's alright".

I smiled at him, looked at the stranger, who was not a stranger anymore, grinned and said, "Thank you!"

Suddenly, another man stepped up and laid some change on the game, saying, "Here ya' go!"

I looked over at my Dad. He was laughing, then yelled, "Get it while you can!"

Three more cowboys brought money and put it on top of the game. It felt like Christmas! My pockets were bulging!

After about twenty games, I decided to take a break. I asked Dad for another soda. As he ordered for me, the lady in the black mascara and blue eye shadow produced a huge pickle jar, saying "Here honey, here's some place to put all that money."

I could see that she had put some change in it, before giving it to me. It was the first conscious thought I was aware of having, that maybe, Mom wasn't as right about everything, as I had thought. It seemed to me, that a woman wearing a lot of make-up, could be just as nice or maybe, nicer, than one who didn't.

My Dad and I left that tavern. We hadn't been on the road again, for five minutes, when Dad pulled into the parking lot of another tavern. And the one after that and the one after that...I brought my jar in with us and it amazed me, how generous, all these adults were being towards me. At each and every one of them, we'd sit at the counter, Dad would order a Bergie for himself and an orange Nehi for me. Someone would mention my jar of money and soon, the tavern customers were adding more change to the jar.

Dad and I did, eventually, reach the acreage. However, I don't think we were there fifteen minutes, when Dad said that it was time to go. On the way home, we stopped at each place, again. The scene replayed itself over and over, again. I played so many bowling arcade games, I became quite good! With all the games I played, you would have thought I had used up all the money, but this was a HUGE pickle jar and the tavern patrons had been very generous. When my Dad and I left the last tavern, my jar was, still, three quarters full.


As we drove home, Dad asked me if I had had a good time. He had a big smile on his face.

I knew, that he knew, that I had had a blast. I, also, knew that he wanted to hear me say it. I didn't disappoint him. "Pop, that was the best time, EVER!"

He chuckled and while he drove, I thought about how sorry my twin sister was going to be, that she had elected to stay home to play with dolls and have a tea party. I thought I was very lucky, indeed.

Now, in front of our house, we had a low brick wall. It was about two and one half feet high. It had a dirt area in front of it, where three or four cars could park, side by side.

As we pulled in, Dad's depth perception apparently wasn't working correctly, as he plowed through the wall.

I was shocked, as my Dad never did anything wrong, ever!

He exclaimed, "Jesus Christ!"

My Dad always said that, when he was upset.

My Mom came out of the house and soon, both of them were having words. I heard, "What were you doing, drinking and driving with Barbie in the car?" and "Oh, Christ, lay off!" Then, my Dad was telling me to go in the house.

As I walked through the door, I remember wishing my Mom would be quiet. All I could think of, was that my Dad wouldn't take me with him, again and it would all be her fault! Then, I forgot all that, as I excitedly told Sue about the day and showed the money to her.

She was properly impressed and sad, that she hadn't gone, too.

I told her that I would buy some candy for her and that helped her disappointment.

The next day, when I went outside to play, a man my Dad had hired was fixing the brick wall. In addition, he installed a long block of wood, about three feet in front of the wall, to help a driver know when to stop.

I thought that was a really smart thing to do.

Reviews

[Zubier_abd]

really fun story to read. had to me wondering if there was something nefarious behind all the adults giving you the money (no offense). it was really nicely written and you have a great eye for details :)

[Barbara Walker]

Thank you so much!

[Pax]

I like this story, it gives us a joy of childhood days... enjoyed it very much. and you hit big time!

[Barbara Walker]

Thank you!

[Ahmad Cox]

Wow, I really loved this story. I could sense the emotion and the nostalgia

[Soul Fire]

Very well done story. Excellent rhythum,word choice, and it's just all in all a great story. I really enjoyed reading it. Childhood memories are the best,and getting alone time with your parents,or Dad,especially when your young,is always great! Glad you have this wonderful memory,thank you so much for sharing.

[Barbara Walker]

Thank you for the review!

[Soul Fire]

You're welcome!

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the story of you and your father. It is good to remember the simple and good times. I like the description and the places you took me with you. The story was entertaining and you kept my attention to the ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[Emily B]

that's a wonderful story

[[untitled]]

Poetic Voice is Announcing the first Poetic Voice Cash Prize Contest for Poetry. Awards will be given to the writers who submit for consideration the most outstanding poems within the context of Poetry and Word Art.



http://poeticvoice.ning.com/

[Samuel Dickens]

Although I had two sisters and a younger brother, I was the one that usually hung out with dad and went places with him, including the beer joints. Sometimes people would give me a nickel or dime, but I certainly never hit the jackpot like you did. My parents were divorced, so there was no chance of dad getting chewed out by mom for drinking and driving with me in the car. He never really seemed to get drunk, only happy. Seems your dad and mine might have been a bit alike. I enjoyed your story, Barbara.

[Barbara Walker]

Thank you Sam! I am trying to catch up on the many thanks I owe for reviews. Always appreciated!