Ah, the Good Old Days. When you had to "see the USA in your Chevrolet". When Dad did all the driving, griping the entire time. When the car windows remained tightly closed and Dad almost kippered the entire family with his Lucky Strikes. When the World's Largest Ball of Twine could mean at most a two-minute stop ("Hurry up, or Dad's going to leave you behind."). When baby brother was placed tenderly, without compunction or restraint, on the shelf under the rear window. (Somehow, the laws of inertia must've worked differently back then, or perhaps brakes simply weren't as powerful.) When 'fast food' was the soggy, two-day-old bologna sandwich that Mom retrieved from her new Tupperware Sandwich Freshener. When only wimps used maps. When the best (and only) game was counting telephone poles. When "I've Been Working on the Railroad" could go on for hours. When the Grand Canyon still seemed grand.
-- PW (who missed all that fun, being brought up with a motorbike and very drafty sidecar in the freezing UK)
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention to arrive safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: Wow!!! What a ride!"