Thanks for bringing it up again. That had to be a hell of a time to be alive. The war was over, Germany and Japan having been beaten back and defeated, and everyone relieved that their still-living family and friends had survived many theatres of war, of terror. It was all behind us, but very so fresh, serving as a reminder to live fully as much as you could. It seemed like anything and everything was possible, couldn't possibly go wrong. The absolute beauty of being outdoors in clean air with a fun vehicle to drive in (unless you were too young). The simplicity of isolation.
For some reason, the video hits a soft spot for me, even though I wouldn't be born until many years later... It makes me think of the Scout 80 Dad had and the hunting lease in south Texas that we went to every fall. Wow, sometimes, the memories just come rushing back, hard-hitting. I remember when we would be at the hunting lodge (does anyone know where it was in Brooks county during '69-'72?) at night, with many people talking, eating, playing cards. The smells of gun oil and ammunition is VERY strong. I can still remember it, the way the old Winchester boxes smelled back then.
The tent we used, the first and second travel trailer (Dad got the second one because the first one didn't have a bathroom in it). I REALLY remember the day I had to go outside to do my thing, on a porta-toilet with just a bag to hold the "stuff," white seat, etc. It was a very cold, cloudy, and dreary day, wet and cold to the bone. It was like a winter wonderland everywhere from where I sat, very few trees to block the long, long, wide view I had across a low field. There was nothing moving in the early morning, just quiet, still. I had to be 4 around that time). I remember when we got the second trailer, and Mom and I set up the Christmas decorations and the short little tree on the dinner table (we used it two seasons at the lease before moving to San Antonio around '73). I'm just now remembering the plastic plates and utensils and placemats. Dad picking me up to put me in the top bunk at the front each night. The rides in the Scout during the day. Thankfully, they were not that ROUGH like the video! The cactus I stepped on one day and the crying afterwards while Mom tweezed all the spines off my little foot. And there's the restaurants in between the lease and home, which was Odem and later Corpus.
The memories are "holy-S*" strong right now. The smells of my Dad's machine shop on Main St between Cook Ave and Voss Ave, especially in his office with 40s-50s-era furniture and the peculiar smell they had to them. Those memories seem magical to me, still...
It's times like this when I feel like we have gone too far, way too far in such a short time-frame. It feels like our technological pace is completely out of hand in spite of the benefits it brings us. Why are we in such a hurry to "advance?"
I look forward to the day I can leave Houston behind and go in search of adventure. It's just too much to be trapped and stuck in a large city like this. Summers and winters are really hard for me, when I'm city-bound (to save money) and I have to work the most to get free during the spring and fall, which are my times to travel the most.
A country girl...