One year, when we took our annual summer vacation to Bristow, Oklahoma to see my Mom's parents, I saw a small sign that read "Little Barrel One Mile." I thought, what a strange name for a town. I kept watching so that I wouldn't miss seeing this Little Barrel town. We drove and drove, and every once in a while I'd see a small sign reading "Little Barrel One Mile." I was about to ask Mom about it, and then it dawned on me! It wasn't "Little" at all! It was "Litter." Litter Barrel One Mile! I know, I know..... it's just a goofy memory I have, that I should have kept to myself. When it's the late 50's and you're sitting in the back seat of the family car, resting your hands and head on the front seat, looking at the road between your Mom and Daddy, you think on things such as this.
Why do I retain silly memories, like this one, and I can't remember where I put the remote? And when I retrace my steps to find the remote, which used to work for me, it just makes me wonder why I'm retracing my steps?
During another summer drive to Bristow, OK, I was 13 years old at the time, while sitting in that same spot in the back of our family car and leaning forward, my Daddy let me sing It's My Party by Leslie Gore. I could really nail that song. He said I sang good. I never, ever want to forget this memory.