Childhood Place
I knew it was going to be an early morning, dad told me so. I had to be up, ready to go and in the truck by 4 am. Even at this age I am not a morning person. It was still dark out when the three of us, mom, dad and me started down the highway. It would be about two hours until we arrived at our destination. I put my headphones on, and pushed play on my walkman.
I woke up to mom shaking me and saying “we’re here”! It was light out, I sat up and looked around. The parking lot was full of trucks and trailers just like ours. We quickly found the registration desk and dad was given all the necessary information. We walked back to the truck; it was already warming up, not a cloud in the sky. It was going to be a hot summer day in the west!
The event officially starts around 10am, but there is so much preparation involved beforehand. Dad says everything has to be “perfect”. All I remember about this prepping time is being extremely bored. I’m not allowed to wander off, get in the way, or touch anything!
The best part of these day/events is listening to my dad. Even though I am young and not even sure what exactly he is talking about, I can tell he is smart and sought out. So many questions are asked of him. It seems he always has an answer. People are pointing at this and that and admiring. I don’t get what the big deal is, but it’s important to these people. He seems so happy on these days, but at the same time stressed out with all the prepping and getting things ready.
Mom and I do our usual walking around, awing, pointing, liking and disliking. As a family who doesn’t get to eat out hardly ever, the trip to the concession stand for a corn dog and French fries is a true highlight of my day. The carbonated soda pop was just what I needed on this super hot sunny day. You know the kind of carbonation that makes you burp! In heat like this, hours seem like days, and then you add the boredom along with it. You can only listen to the same cassette tape in your walkman so many times in the same day. Then we always have that long drive back home.
The judges started their rounds early in the day, as there are so many entries. I caught myself staring at the two of them, watching everything they did; listening to all of the questions they asked my dad, which was a lot! Those two judges, they never smiled. Then, we wait….
The sun was high in the sky; I could see my reflection as clear as ever in the hood of my dad’s 1970 Grabber Orange Boss 302 Mustang. Yes, this was his happiness, his pride and joy, what the prepping and scurrying about was all for.
The day was finally winding down. There were less and less people milling around the car show. Dad was slowly starting to pack up some of his things while waiting for judging results. Once I asked my dad how much money he would win, he just laughed and said it’s not about winning money. It’s about having pride in something and caring about it so much that you want to share it with other people and sometimes you can have those things judged for fun. If you win, you get a trophy. I told him that’s a much better prize, it will last longer!
Dad got the car loaded up in the trailer and we got on the road. I held the trophy in my lap all the way home. For some reason I felt like I won it, I felt so proud. When we got home dad told me to come with him to put the trophy up. We went to his “special” garage. I wasn’t allowed in there, ever. It wasn’t a place for kids. They might get hurt, touch things, misplace things, and ruin their good clothes… But in we went together, and in that “special” garage was a cabinet with a glass front and shelves inside. I bet you can guess what was inside the cabinet. Yep, numerous trophies!