A few months after my mother passed away, my father gave up traveling. They were a traveling team, and I guess Dad just didn't want to do it on his own. That's understandable, as my parents had been road junkies for as long as I can remember.
I still remember visiting Niagara Falls at the age of 3, and driving to Florida when I was 8. In those days, Disney had ticket books for their rides. Space Mountain was an E-Ticket, as I recall... Back then I-95 wasn't complete all the way through Florida, and you had to get off the Interstate and drive surface roads in some areas. We didn't take Interstates all the time anyway, there were lots more interesting things on the back roads of America. If we never got off the Interstate, we never would have gone to Marineland, or Gatorland, or countless other bits of roadside America that are not built next to an exit ramp.
I was down at my Dad's house two weeks ago, packing up some of my stuff that was still there (he passed away in February). After walking past his refrigerator a few dozen times that day, I decided to take those fridge magnets with me. Some are at home on my refrigerator, some are now in my office (see photo above). They are, oddly enough, not a reminder of the road for me, but rather a reminder of a life well lived. And a man greatly missed...
No photography talk today, sorry. just a reminder: If you're not having fun while you're out shooting, you're probably doing something wrong.