road trip

A bunch of friends are lounging in a living room (no one's in particular) and the option of driving to who knows where, for who knows how long comes up. There is a pause and then one zellous friend jumps off the couch and yells, "ROAD TRIP!"

The others soon join in and soon the room is buzzing with excitement.

This is the typical reaction to the opportunity of a roadtrip. No one stops to think about the fact that they will be crammed in a car with people - it doesn't matter - it's all part of the adventure, the fun, and you love these people. Sweet.

My family is sitting in the playroom, my mom and dad look at eachother in anticipation, my mom stands up clears her throat and announces that we are going to Florida. My little brother jumps up and starts running around the house, Mike smiles and nods, and Erika and I squeal with excitement and start dreaming about Walt Disney world - just like in the commercials.

My dad clears his throat and adds, "We will be taking the van."

Jeremy stops running, Mike stops smiling, Erika stops dreaming, and well I am still dancing in the fields with John Smith because I wan't listening.

For my family, the idea of a road trip was never met with excitement, in fact even as a write this I am getting an sick feeling deep within my stomach. I'm sure in the early days, when we were naive and the only place we went in a car was to church and Grandpa's house, they didn't seem so bad, but then again I was strapped in a car seat and my brother in his booster seat.

I don't know what it is... my family loves eachother, we get along (most of the time), we are happy people, but stick us in a vechicle for longer then 15 minutes we turn into the extremely irritable family from Gloomsville. Needless to say, road trips with the VandenBerg's are usually memorable, but for all the wrong reasons...

I think I am going to attribute this lack of love to all the bad experiences we have had on the road together. When we were kids we didn't have the option of having a tv to entertain us for the ride, instead we used eacother, or in other words Mike bugged the jeebers out of me - poking, tickle torturing, teasing, pulling my braids, anything really to get a reaction. I think I would give a satisfactory reaction by crying, screaming, scratching and complaining. Every now and then my mom would look back and firmly tell Mike to stop harrassing his poor innocent little sister. My dad would drive on, silently brewing, until my last wail would make him snap and he would veer the van to a screeching halt, gravel flying, to the side of the road and refuse to drive on. From then on the ride would be pretty silent, except for Erika's oblivious chatter with her dolls.

And then of course there is the fact that when you are on a road trip your family must give you your MUCH needed space. Before every trip we would draw imaginary lines on the seats that no one or nothing that wasn't yours could not cross. The second your space was violated, Mom was informed. "Mom! Erika's hair is on my side!" My mom was inventive and she came up with the solution of rolling up blankets and placing them between us to ensure that we wouldn't touch eachother. But for some odd reason this would only seem to make invading someones space more tempting...

I think it would be important to note that my dad is one of those guys who will never stop and ask for directions if we are lost. He will also never admit we are lost. There have been times where we have added at leat 3 hours to a trip going the 'scenic route.' One classic time was when we were going camping and we missed one turnoff. We kept driving until eventually we were driving down this cow path while my dad was muttering how people should take better care of their roads. My mom finally convinced him to ask directions at the next place we went by, which ended up being a dump half an hour away. All we met there was a black bear... my dad decided to turn around.

If we were to ever write a book called 'Road Trips From Hell - VandenBerg edition,' the main plot would be concerning the epic Florida road trip. 2 days + four siblilngs + bordom + a blizzard + traffic jam = torture. At this time Jeremy was just begining to realise that it is every little brother's duty to annoy the stuffing out of his sisters. He would sing, he would burp, he would fart, he would punch - Mom and Dad thought it was cute, while we were driven crazy. I think there was a time where I spent a good two hours thinking of ways I could throw him out the window without Mom noticing.

Last summer, my family tried it again... this time to Boston, Darian Lake. You would think that since we have matured it would be a much better trip. Well, 'maturity' kinda melts away in 34 degree weather, no airconditioning, and being stuck at the border for 2 and a half hours. Although, there was a time where we all laughed until we cried, which broke the ice (if there was any ice to break). We had the sliding doors open while waiting at the border and when my little brother slammed one shut my dad jumped, swore, and hit his head on the top of the van because he thought we were getting shot at.

Honestly, the only thing that got us through the many times on the road was the promise that we would stop at a restaraunt. Road trips were the only reason that I encountered Fast Food in my childhood.

A road trip you say? Who cares that you will be crammed in a car with people, it doesn't matter, it's all part of the adventure, the fun, and you love these people. Sweet.