Dream Trip

I recently went through the camera roll on my phone to do a bit of cleanup. You never realize how many useless and nearly identical photos you have until you look at each one to decide whether to keep or delete it. The number of screenshots of ads for shows and movies I thought I might like to watch soon (some more than a year old—yikes) was ridiculous. And there were even more screenshots of cake and other very bad-for-you dishes—things I shouldn’t even be looking at, let alone making.

There are some photos, though, that I will never part with, and while doing my cleanup, I came across a few of them. One got my imagination rolling: it made me think about time travel and how, if it were real, I would love to go to the day that picture was taken and somehow insert myself in that scene.

The scene is this: My mom and three of her brothers are just hanging out; I have no idea where they are, but Uncle John (who is holding a clock—how random) is sharing a trunk seat with another uncle who’s playing the guitar. Another uncle—Bill, maybe?—doesn’t appear to be doing anything, and then there’s my mom holding a beer, looking like she might be getting ready to say something only semi-important. I’m guessing that the photo was taken in the 1950s, and anything beyond what I can tell from looking at the picture is strictly a product of my imagination.

I imagine it’s a Saturday night. Nothing is happening anywhere nearby—when you live on a farm out in the sticks, there rarely is—so you and your siblings gather and have your own party. You all sit around and shoot the breeze. There aren’t any neighbors nearby to gossip about, so maybe you talk about former schoolmates—who is “sweet on” who, and other juicy tidbits. Perhaps the owner of the trunk-turned-bench just got out of the military and is telling tales of the people, places, and things he saw. Come to think of it, maybe it’s a homecoming party.

Whatever it is, I want to be there. And even though I no longer drink, I think I’d have to make an exception for this once-in-a-lifetime (fantasy) trip to the good old days and drink a cold one with Grace and the fellas.

I prefer home to anywhere else, and my cousin often reminds me that I come by it honestly because he says that his dad, my mom, and all their siblings were the same way. And if you look at the picture, you can see why they were homebodies—I mean, why would you feel the need to go anywhere when you’ve got a cooler full of beer, music, laughter, and most importantly when you’re in the company of people you love?

So, while I’m not the traveling type, I can say with 100% certainty that if anyone ever invents a time machine, book me a seat—because that is one trip I wouldn’t miss out on.  Until then, I’ll have to settle for using my imagination to get there.