I was talking to my dad the other day and he asked how Sis was in Montana. He then reminisced about a time that he and a friend went to Alaska and then travelled back down through Montana. He told how he would find an odd job to get by, drop in on acquaintances for lodging, or just rely on the kindness of good Samaritans for a meal.
He says it was one of the best experiences of his life and though he wouldn't want to do it again, he was glad to have gotten the chance to travel like that.
Then he said that if he had had a son, he would've given him some money and sent him off to do the same because it was such a great way to see the country and learn about life.
Of course he would never think of doing this with us girls. He was so over-protective of us. I remember a time when I was 18, still at home, and my sister told me of a job opening, running a hot dog cart in front of the state capitol building. I thought it sounded like a good job for me, but when my dad heard about it, he freaked out and forbid me to pursue it. He couldn't possibly stand the thought of me on the street interacting with strangers! And downtown! He would rarely let me drive downtown, let alone actually work there. What was I thinking?!
Yep, that's my dad. But I love him, double standards and all.