Summertime invariably brings the annual discussion of what if when it comes to vacationing.
The what if is generally built upon the impossible purchase of an RV that will magically transport MaLinda, me and our two dogs.
Or there’s the hotels to stay in – they have to be dog friendly of course - at exotic getaways like Hobbs, N.M.
I was thinking somewhere far from exotic when I happened upon Hobbs in my mind.
When I was little, we lived in Seminole, Texas, a short hop to Hobbs.
Seminole back in those days was dry, in more ways than one, and Hobbs wasn’t, so my folks would drive over for a constitutional one can of beer.
I know, drinking and driving, but nothing extraordinary happened with that one can of beer.
Anyway, to use my parents as a segue back to vacation traveling, they did have this 14-foot camper we pulled behind our trusty GMC pickup.
I guess my folks were dazed about all the features this breathtaking little gem had, back in 1964, like stove, refrigerator, shower, and three beds.
Yes, it was amazing how the manufacturer was able to make all of the features tiny - microscopic it seemed.
It was wonderful – a teenager missing his friends and two parents who grew up in the first two decades of the 20th century.
My father was a fisherman and we went to many out-of-the-way lakes that back then offered few amenities.
After all, we had our Tom Thumb camping trailer.
Now that I’m older than my Dad was back then, my take on my folks has changed.
But I still remember how overjoyed I was when my folks sold that trailer.
Hopefully, wherever we choose for a vacation this year – it’s usually a five-day whirlwind – I’m trying to think of someplace that doesn’t have triple-digits temperatures.
It doesn’t look like too many places in Texas fit that bill this week.
I’m off to Kerrville this week for memorial services for two recently departed colleagues.
One was my photographer at the Kerrville Daily Times, Jody Rhoden, a friend at Tivy High School then at A&M.
Jody had the sad distinction of being one of the last kids in Kerrville to be stricken by polio in the 1950s.
He was an excellent photographer for me and a close friend.
The other – their services are next to each other – was Edd O’Donnell.
He was a veteran reporter – a tremendous writer - and I was a green editor.
Lot of give and take back in the 1980s, but I’m pretty sure I learned more from him than he did from me.
