Etching the earliest memories, one drive at a time.
My earliest road trip memory is that of a Thanksgiving drive to Maine. Another one that's especially fond to me is my son’s earliest road trip memory: just he and I driving home from Maine one night(it's always more magical driving at night). We were listening to the Red Sox game on the radio and chatting. As the bases loaded up, our chatter turned to the game. Listening to Manny Ramirez go through the pitches was like listening to 'Mighty Casey at the Bat'.
But Manny hit a grand slam home run that night whereas Mighty Casey struck out. Tommy and I were thrilled. This was before the two World Series titles.
I guess he was a little over four years old. He still asks me if I remember it:
“Hey Dad? Remember when we were driving home from Maine and we were listening to the Red Sox and Manny hit a grand slam home run?”
"Yes, I do bub."