From The Storyteller

August 7, 2017, Dog Feathers

Growing up in Chicago gave me a real understanding of driving in traffic. My dad was the best at getting us from here to there in the least amount of time. He understood stop light timing and rapid lane changes as an art form. He was also a vocal driver. If a person in a car around us was slowing his progress, my dad would vocally express his displeasure. Our 1956 Plymouth Savoy with the 4/40 a/c (old joke - four windows rolled down at 40 mph) drove like a race car at the Indianapolis 500. As an 11 year old boy, I thought it was great.

Almost overnight this cool driving style stopped. It seems that my youngest sister Debby, who was about 5 at the time, was riding with my mother on the way to the Jewel (our local grocery store). Seat belts were not a big item back then, and Debby was all over, looking at every car as they drove past.

Debby has never been the quiet type. She speaks her mind and asks her questions with an openness that most hope for. On this particular day she was unusually quiet until they pulled into the parking lot.  Finally she asked my mother where all the SOBs were? Mother to 5 year old daughter, "What?"  Debby simply added, "Every time we ride with dad we see a lot of SOB’s – I was just wondering where they were today."

I was not present for the family conference, however after my mom and dad had finished, SOB’s disappeared from sight and the world was filled with Dog Feathers. It also took longer to get places, and the next car we got was a station wagon.

Moral – Little things can bring about great changes.