Returning to Skytop, 36 Years Later

I remember doing a family history project in junior year of high school. One of our assignments was to list our family traditions. I found this rather difficult, actually. As I ran through the things we always did at holiday time, for example, I was hard pressed to come up with any traditions -- or at least any that I was anxious to share. I would not share (as a shy sixteen-year-old) Mom and Dad's sipping on champagne (with peaches) as we opened up presents on Christmas morning, for example. One tradition we do have, however, is story telling. One group of stories that seemed to come up regularly involved our family vacations to the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania in the early 1970s. Appropriatelty then, to celebrate Mom and Dad's 50th wedding anniversary, we returned to Skytop Lodge. We spent a wonderful week as a family playing golf, tennis, swimming and enjoying sumptuous meals as a family. It's an effort for me to ever be sincere, but I feel really lucky to be a part of this family. People seem to generally like hanging out with one another. My sixteen year old niece announced after she got home that this was the best vacation she'd ever had. Can't say that I can argue with her.

Numbers Don't Lie

I went to get my auto emissions test on Saturday. The guy at the testing station looked at my ten year old Honda CRV and said:
"Do you like this car?"
"I love it, " I said
"Yeah, everyone who comes in with one says the same thing -- they love it; reliable, comfortable."
"I've had it for about 6 years, and it's never broken down." (I hope I didn't jinx myself by saying that, I thought.)
"It's all you need, he said. "Put a lot of money into a new car and drive it for a little while. Before you know all you have is an old car like everybody else."

I'm turning 40 in a few weeks and I've been stressing about it. Generally, birthdays don't bother me, but this one is eating at me a bit. I always tell people a birthday is just a number, and that I've never really wanted to be a younger age. These days though, the gray hair and the balding head are harder and harder to ignore. I distracted myself today with a big moment in my Honda's life:


I noticed that I was very close to having my odometer turn over on the way to my emissions test. I promised myself I was going to see the event. On a winding road on the way to church I watched very carefully ... 99,999 ... then 100,000! How ridiculous would it be if I ran it a ditch or a mailbox because I was looking at my odometer turn to 6 digits? I pulled into the first side street I could to take a photo. Then I drove to church.

My odometer now reads 100008. Car doesn't feel any different than it did at 98,000 or 99,000. Same old reliable vehicle. Maybe 100,000 is just a number.

Who Doesn't Enjoy a Nice Tater Tot?

This week on The Splendid Table, one of my favorite public radio shows, there's an essay on the history of the tater tot. The story was inspired by the recent resurgence of the tater tot; they're now showing up on the menus of trendy restaurants, apparently. The most fascinating part of the story is their origin -- tots were made from the leftovers they had after cutting potatoes for frozen french fries. Before some genius had the idea to make tots, this stuff was used to feed cattle. Of all the slop that I saw turn up in my junior high cafeteria, I would not have pegged tater tots the item most likely to be classified as animal feed.

Happy St. Patrick's Day. No better way to celebrate than with some tots.