This is what hanging out with the family on a Sunday afternoon when everyone has momentarily suspended the insane work ethic and is free to just shoot the breeze gets you: Let’s all go in on a motor home together. Brian can have it for his weeks to the beach in June, Dave and Sheilah can have it for race weekends, Dad can travel to his beloved Branson with whomever he can find to ride shotgun, and Marcia and the girls can take it too. Yes, there’s been too much time wasted at the family compound.
I’ve seen this movie is what I was thinking as the idea bounced about. Brian starred in the Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation film, Dad in Robin Williams’ RV.
Dad: Well, your sister knows how to drive it—she drove a school bus, and not one of those short ones (insert your own joke here). And Brian, well he can drive anything—you know he drove military supply trucks in South Korea. And Dave hauled boats and tool trailers all his life.
Here’s where I do NOT mention that I drove those U-Haul trucks cross country, don’t point out Dad’s age, multi-medications, and how he has to have the latest radar-scrambler though he drives a steady 40 mph.
Who wants to spend that much time strapped to a home that’s driving down the road by adults with varied driving ability and then sleep and eat and vacation together too? This is sounding scarier by the minute.
I’ve seen this movie. Someone’s dead carcass would be tied to the top of the thing or upright in the shower. Call me Little Miss Sunshine, but I know how this story ends.