Yogi Bear Hates Me

Why in the world does everyone get excited about picnics? The weather clears and everyone starts talking about picnic lunches, picnicking in the park, taking a picnic on a hike...why does this sound like so much fun to everyone but me?

I guess you can think of some good things about picnics. Picnics do sound romantic as you imagine your honey's head on you lap as you feed him grapes. Of course, you're dressed in a romantic soft skirt and lace and hat and he's handsome. Sure, that sound fun. Or you can think of your adorable family all sitting on a checkered blanket eating watermelon - and how cute that is with seeds in their mouths and Junior missing his front teeth. Or even hosting a gals lunch of crackers and cheese with a bottle of wine discussing Proust. Tittering over "Remembrances of Things Past" while eating pate.

Then reality sits in. Someone has to make the picnic - and in my house - that would be me. We don't have any picnic foods in this house. We have stuff for a barbecue. We have supplies for a gourmet dinner. We have a lot of cereal. But a romantic picnic for two a la champagne and grapes? Ain't happening. And the romantic skirt? Do I even own a skirt - let alone a hat?

A family picnic? Oh, I guess I could throw together some sandwiches and throw in a bag of chips. But we don't have portable drinks - as soon as they are bought they disappear - so I gave up that fight long ago. And the requisite watermelon? I guess when I pick up the drinks - I can grab one of those too. The fun factor of the family picnic just went way down. Who's carrying all this crap when we get to the picnic site? And don't forget the knife to cut the watermelon - because I didn't have time to cut it before we left because everyone was ready but me. And soon enough I'll have watermelon seeds being spit at me. Again. No.

I don't like sitting on the ground. I don't like hauling things to the middle of nowhere. I don't like setting up or cleaning up. I'd much rather stop at Burger King or Subway and get it to go - instant picnic. I'm not in charge of anything - and when we're done - we throw it away.

As for the gals get together. Sure. I like my wine. I like Proust. I like pate. How about that same combination in a French Bistro with a cute bartender? Now that's a picnic!

Benny and the Jets

I'm driving the girls to an away soccer game when about about 45 minutes into the trip I realize that not only has no one told me to stop singing Benny and the Jets- but not a single girl is talking. There are 4 girls in the car. Certainly two of the girls should be communicating. I'm sure they aren't sleeping. At the next light I turn around - and you know full well what they were doing. Each of them had some type of earphone in enjoying their own source of music and they were all involved with their own personal text messaging.

WHAT A WASTE OF TIME! Some of my best memories of growing up involve road trips to "away" meets and field trips. It doesn't matter how the meet went, the game was played or what activity was at the other end - the travel to and from was ALWAYS the best part.

One of my earliest recollections involved a trip to the Henry Ford Museum. Our troop leader and a few parents car pooled our Girl Scout troop from central Ohio to Michigan. I don't know how long it took us to get there - it seemed like 30 minutes to me. There were 6 of us in the back of a station wagon. At one point we put the seats down (this was still legal) and we all road in the wagon. I distinctly remember every time we passed a sign that read "NO U Turn" we all said "No, you turn" like it was the most clever line ever uttered. I can see and hear my friend Sarah singing "Rock the Boat." I think of her every time I hear that song. (Well I'd like to know where you got the notion....Yes, I'd like to know where you got the no oo tion.)

Sounds silly - but what a great time! We learned about 4th grade crushes. Mean 5th grade teachers. Who had a new pet. Serious 10 year old bonding time.

Trips continued - some better than others - but always fun. At one swim meet I got paired with two girls I didn't know very well. I think the coach realized I could make a conversation with a cantaloupe if I had to. By the end of the meet and subsequent ride home we kept yelling "Yum Yum Roast Beef." I don't know why - but I think if I saw either of them on the street today and yelled "yum yum" I'd surly hear a "Roast Beef" response.

High school trips were just as fun if not better. Rocking to Queen in the backseat of my friend Mary's parent's car. How cool is that? I'll tell you. Way cool. Sitting between two cute boys in the back of my Dad's LaBaron. Changing the words of the song "Feelings" to "Felix. Nothing more than Felix." Going to Canada in a van with a nun. Holding up signs to passing motorists. Holding up underwear to passing motorists. Just laughing and carrying on.

I feel sorry for the youth of today. I'm sure they bond in their own way - but 20 years from now will they remember the two hour trip or anything that happened on the way to or from the game? Probably not. So I guess that means I'm free to sing at the top of my lungs "Bbbbbbenny and the jets."