Chapter 2

Dad had given me the assignment of researching and applying for fishing permits and licenses in the parks and states through which we would be traveling. Money wasn’t an issue, so he had basically told me to get a license in every state that we would be in. That way if we wanted, we could spend some time at a lake, or on a river whenever we stopped, wherever we were. I was on the internet, finishing up the requirements for Yellowstone when he found me.

“Ok, I think I have the itinerary solidified. We hit Yellowstone first, after which we meander across country to the Badlands and Mt. Rushmore. If we stay on the northern track, we can hit Minnesota and Wisconsin and some of the lakes there. A dip south and we’ll be able to take a break in Chicago, see Willis Tower and some of the sights there before we do a little more fishing on the great lakes. After that, we’ll make a beeline to Nashville and then on to Atlanta. From there, it’s only a hop-skip-and-jump to Macon where your grandparents live.”

Part of the fun of vacations is the anticipation you get out of building the itinerary and imagining the excitement at each stop along the way. Our trip was only a week into the future, but with a solid itinerary, it was really feeling like it would happen.

“Have you gotten the fishing licenses yet?”

Well, up until now I had only had a vague idea of where we would be, so no, I hadn’t finished that. “I’m finishing up Yellowstone now, and with the list of states you just gave me, I’ll get the rest of the licenses online tomorrow. Any that I don’t get, we can always stop at a Wal-Mart in-state and pick up.”

Dad nodded, “That sounds like a plan. We’ll be taking the SUV, so we’ll have a lot of room available. I looked at our camping gear today and it’s really old and outdated. Why don’t you head to REI tomorrow and pick up a good tent, a couple of sleeping bags, mattress pads, cooking equipment, coolers and whatever else you think we might need?”

I nodded agreement, quickly opening the REI web-page and looking for the items he had been listing. My eyes got wide, “Uh, Dad, what kind of budget did you have for the camping supplies?”

“I don’t know, $300-400?” He took a look at the computer, “Holy crap! When did all this get so expensive?” There was a deep breath from him, the one that seemed to precede any major decision, “You still have that credit card we gave you for emergencies?”

I nodded.

He winced a little, “Go ahead and get everything you think we’re going to need and put it on the card. I’ll pay it off before we leave on vacation.”

I already said it wasn’t a matter of money. Dad regularly designed, built and sold multi-million dollar homes, and there was no way they cost anywhere near that, even with property prices. It was more the principle of it all. Mom and Dad had lived comfortable lives for as long as I had known them, but they didn’t spend money frivolously. I was glad that Dad didn’t consider a family vacation to be a frivolous expense; wince-worthy, yes, but not frivolous.

“I’ll go first thing tomorrow after I drop off my last assignments at school.”

He just nodded, “What time do you think you’ll be there?”

“If I can get to school at 8:00 am, I should be at REI when they open.”

He tossed me the keys to the Tahoe. “Use this; it’ll give you more room to haul stuff around.” With that, we had much of the next day planned.

School was an absolute bust. I stopped and handed in my last assignments, was checked off and ushered out the door in less than 15 minutes. Crap, another 45 minutes before REI opened, and it would only take me 15 of those to get there. Oh well, I could stop at the green lady’s for coffee.

I had to laugh as I sat across the street from REI, nursing my morning latte; Uncle Frank showed up. What a coincidence. Not! “So what are you getting out of this?”

Frank held up his hands, “I’m just doing this out of the goodness of my heart.” He had sense enough not to play it off as if I were stupid. That was one of the reasons I liked my Aunt’s husband, other than that he was a really good guy. He laughed, “Your dad is getting me that fly-fishing pole I’ve wanted, and my wife won’t nag me about this.”

“Uh huh, that’s more like it. So what limit am I supposed to stay under?”

Frank looked at me seriously, “No limit. I’m just supposed to curb some of your more impulsive tendencies should they arise.” We both snorted a laugh at that, and I got up to get my uncle a coffee. We sat there talking companionably about the upcoming trip until shortly before the store opened.

When they say that the flagship store for REI is in Seattle, they mean it. Everything you could ever want, staffed by Joel McHale wannabees all eager to show off the latest gadget or innovation in camping. I was actually glad that Frank was with me, as he was an avid fisherman. Between the two of us, we gave off the air that we knew what we were about, and managed to keep at least $400 of useless products du jour out of the shopping cart.

And now, an interlude for you women out there: guys shop differently than you do. Here’s how it works. First, a guy has an idea of what he wants when he walks into the store; there’s very little browsing or “window shopping” going on. Head to what you want and get it. If they don’t have it, leave and hit the next place on your list. Second, a guy understands the principle that, “you get what you pay for”. He’s unlikely to buy the cheapest item simply because it costs the least. He’ll weigh the expected benefit from its use against the assumption of failure based on the price and workmanship. Likewise, he won’t buy the most expensive item since that’s probably padded with unnecessary features that serve only to drive up the cost. He’ll apply logic to cost/benefit analysis and make a decision, then move on. No second-guessing, no driving to another store to see if it’s cheaper. Shoot, even if he knows that it’s cheaper at another store, he may figure in the time and fuel costs to get there and decide to cut his losses by buying it at the more expensive price point. Why, you ask? Let’s see, it takes 30 minutes to drive to the other store which is 20 miles away. That will use up another two gallons of gas as well considering that he still has to get home. So if he values his time at $20/hour (conservatively) and gas is $3/gallon, he can add $26 to the cost of the sale item. If that ends up being close to or more than the cost of the same item at the store where he currently is, it simply makes sense to buy it here. Add to that opportunity costs; he could have been home and been watching the game 75 minutes earlier, or giving his wife/girlfriend some attention of her choosing for an extra 75 minutes and you begin to see what I mean. Yeah, I thought that last part would appeal to you.

The least productive time that Frank and I spent at REI was that which it took us to move between departments. At the end of 90 minutes we had a pile at the checkout counter and had basically shopped ourselves out. Frank pulled out his phone and made a call to his brother-in-law. I know he was trying to soften the blow to Dad, and it must have worked as he was laughing when they said their goodbyes. “It’s cool, Tim. I told him you didn’t go overboard on anything, even when the cute chicks in camp-stoves were flirting with you.”

I smiled at that, because they really were cute, and they were being pretty obvious about what they were doing. That’s one advantage of being 6’0” at the age of 16 with a body built at construction sites; the girls think you’re older than you are. “Ha! I think they split their time between us, Frank.”

“Do not let your aunt know that!” He was grinning as he said it, so I knew we were still good.

The total bill came in at just over $1,500 and that included the new rod Frank had wanted. I pulled out the credit card, stuck it in the reader, showed my ID when requested and signed off on the purchase. Frank stayed with the items while I went and got the Tahoe. We loaded up and I gave Frank a ride back to where he had parked. All in all, a successful shopping trip.

Dad was more interested in the way my final meeting at school had gone than he was about the shopping at REI. Sure, all the new toys caught his attention, but he truly was more concerned with my well-being than with the amount of money I had spent. I mentioned that the academic meeting had taken all of 15 minutes, and that they would mail my grades while we were gone this summer. That got a mutter from him about looking for a place with a quality school system. I just grinned and headed into the family room to watch some TV.

The next few days were hectic. Dad was busy selling off his business assets, trying to get the house in shape to show, getting packed and ready for the trip and getting everything else stored. It got bad enough that I volunteered to take care of the house and the trip – all he needed to do was to take care of his business assets. I knew he wanted to keep his truck and personal tools, which would also mean his trailer, but all of the heavy equipment and other vehicles needed to be disposed of. While it didn’t all have to happen this week, it would be a load off his mind if it was sold before we left and he could start fresh on our vacation.

So I took all of our family vehicles in to be serviced, tires rotated, brakes checked, oil and transmission fluid changes, belts and so on. We had a family friend who performed all of the items we requested and at costs that were 50% of dealer service rates. Dad told me to leave my Mazda with him and he’d sell it for us; I could use Mom’s Tahoe from now on. So as soon as the Tahoe was serviced, I took it and hitched up one of Dad’s covered trailers from his lot, bringing it back to the house. I had loaded up with empty boxes and together, Aunt June and I began preparing the house for showing. All those things that make a house a home, and inadvertently produce clutter were packed up, and other items brought in, leaving just enough bric-a-brac to make it seem that people lived here, but there was nothing that was personal. In short, we turned the place from a home into a showcase house. Everything we packed went into sturdy boxes, into the trailer and finally into a secure storage facility. It took three days to finish; Dad looked around on the last day and didn’t recognize the place.

I was surprised too. I mean, I knew we had money, but I had never thought I lived in a multi-million dollar home. To me it was just home, a lived-in space that never measured up to the other houses Dad designed and built. Now that all the personal touches were gone, it was much easier to see the classic lines of Dad’s design, the features incorporated throughout the house that spoke of high-end elegance. I guess familiarity really does breed contempt; that was something I’d have to file away and remember.

Aunt June was amazing throughout all of this. After we moved all of our personal furniture out, she contracted with a service to bring in show-house furnishings. The day before Dad and I left on our vacation, the carpets freshly cleaned, the wood oiled, tiles and grout scrubbed, the place looked entirely different. Dad walked through the house, his hand lingering on the built-in walnut bookcases in the living room, the railings on the staircase, the custom wainscoting in the bedrooms, saying goodbye to the memories that added substance to the walls. In a way, it was another farewell to Mom, ushering in the end of an era of our lives and heralding the beginning of a new one.