Vacations, when I was a kid, were trips to Panama City, Florida. Mom, Dad, my sister and brother, possibly a friend of my sister, would pile into a Ford Gran Torino two-door coupe. And let’s not forget the dachshund, Sam, with his bowl of water in the floorboard. Traveling like that today would be seen as barbaric. Back then, we didn’t think twice about it.
Instead of high-rise condos, there were rows of motels. Sunny Sands Motel. Kitchenettes, sleeper sofas, and sand on the floor from my brother and me. Dad worked for the local utility, the water department. He was in a truck all day, so it was a work uniform for him. Keep those knees covered. I can’t recall seeing him in shorts, ever. After a few days, his legs were a nice shade of pink that matched his tattoo of the Memphis Belle. Dad was a Korean War vet. Navy. Real men don’t wear shorts, unless you’re at the beach.
Dad took my brother and me fishing close to a shipyard, where we caught croakers. That’s what the locals called them. That’s the first time I had ever seen a cargo ship. I was in awe. Lots of people lined up along the dock, some with huge rods and reels like I had never seen before. Fishing was a big part of my life, along with baseball. Jumping in the car with Mom and Dad for a quick trip to a small lake for bream was a normal summer day.
Then it happened. Before my first trip to the Gulf of Mexico, lake water was the only water I knew. Brown. Bay water, I could see fish swimming. Then I saw something huge swimming. Stingray! Which I proceeded to announce at the top of my lungs. Dad was laughing along with everyone else fishing. I thought I had saved everyone’s life. Or bait.
He told me stories of being on a destroyer in the South Pacific. He had all these little photos of him and his shipmates in their Navy whites with those cool bell-bottom pants. That’s a life I can’t imagine. That stingray, I’m his shipmate.
Sam would patrol the beach in search of crabs. His nose buried in the sand, digging and digging.
Before the week was over, Sam was the most popular being on the beach. His black muzzle covered in sand up to his eyes. Poke a hole in the sand. Sam. Crab. He was off like a bullet.
No Instagram sunset pictures. Who needs them? I’ve got a stingray swimming by.
Dad laughing.
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