Ruralite Cafe: Published 11/09/00

By Lisa Majors-Duff - News Editor

Parents continue to teach daughter about life

Traveling with my parents was very much like I thought it would be. Dad and I did most of the driving, and we only veered slightly off course when he was behind the wheel. When we happened to drive past Mississippi's Vietnam Memorial, I learned that Dad can make U-turns with the best of them.

I learned to like "Welcome to..." rest stops a long time ago. Did you know that you can get fresh-squeezed orange or grapefruit juice at the Florida welcome centers on both I-10 and I-75? I was expecting free hot sauce or crawfish when we stopped at the Louisiana welcome center. Instead, we got about 4 ounces of free Sprite and Coke and an hour's worth of browsing at the brochure racks.

Actually, it took about five minutes for me to figure out that if we got back in the car and kept it headed due west, we could check into our hotel and just make it to the 1:30 p.m. tour of the French Quarter. This two-hour tour was well worth the hurry. Not only was it half the cost of most tours, but it was lead by a native of the city, George, who was more than happy to take his time and answer all our questions.

The next thing I learned about traveling with my parents is that when you put a camera in my mother's hands, all her artistic energies suddenly come alive. She's been known hang to over railings, step out into traffic and climb the side of a waterfall to get the perfect shot. Back when I was a kid, Mom took some of the greatest photos of our family vacations, even though she was forced to carry a heavy 35-mm camera around her neck.

With phantom streaks of light and fuzzy math (sorry, the election is not far gone yet) images, she had to admit that her photos from New Orleans were not some of her best work. But I don't think it had anything to do with her skills as a photographer. Her photos were the result of a cheap, point-and-shoot camera. You know the ones I'm talking about. These cameras are tiny enough to fit into your shirt pocket, but they take photos far below Mom's standards.

I'm not the only one who learned things on this trip. Mom told me Dad was concerned that he'd have trouble keeping up with me on Bourbon Street. That turned out not to be a problem. Though he did wimp out on us the last night of the trip, my father would have stayed out longer other nights had I not lost interest with the geratic crowds gathering outside the daiquiri bars and strip joints.

Finally, I learned that I inherited my sense of culinary adventure from my father. While I waited with eager anticipation to dine at Emeril Lagasse's Delmonico restaurant, Mom said her best meal by far was found at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co.

In general, this trip taught me that spending time with your parents can be a valuable experience. A few years away from home spent concentrating on your own family, your career and the other issues that make up day-to-day life can cause a person to forget who their parents are. I'm lucky in that my parents are just down the road a ways. If yours aren't but they are able, call them up and invite them to go to New Orleans with you. Mardi Gras is less than four months away.

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