The Magic Kingdom

 It was a chilly, blurry middle-of-the night when Daddy woke my sister and I up. He was grinning from ear to ear, with a cup of coffee in his hand. The musty car was already packed and he tucked us in with blankets and a thermos full of iced tea. He reached into the utility closet and pulled out our cane poles and his tackle box, put them in the trunk and we were on our way. I think Melanie and I fell asleep, but an hour or so later we woke up and it was still pitch dark. There were glimmers of light shining off the water as we crawled down a country road somewhere in the backwoods of Georgia. We stopped at an old gas station and Daddy bought Vienna sausages, soda crackers and a box of Little Debbies. We were beginning to be aware that we'd hit the jackpot.  Back on the road, we spied lights across the lake like so many midnight fireflies. Daddy found just the right spot and we pulled off, the mysteries of life deepening for us. All around us were old men, young boys, middlers, then us tomboy girls with our sweet Daddy...probably the only girls on the lake, but definitely making us part of a quiet fraternity of fishermen. 

Daddy started this tradition with us, with that smelly old fishing car, and clandestine early-morning trawling trips. He continued it with our much-younger brother and then with his scads of grandchildren many years later. The funny part is, we very rarely caught any fish, at least not many. There was no fancy equipment; we only had cane poles up until we were teenagers. Daddy eventually bought us those "fancy" Zebco rods from Sears Roebuck that you could cast, but we still didn't catch any fish. Do you think it mattered? Of course it didn't. I still smile at the thought of the tents, the lakes, the early morning trips, the Coleman lantern hissing in the night. I also bless Mama, for her lack of complaining, for cleaning up before and after us, for making the path clear for a Daddy to show love, with little money, to his children and grandchildren. My Mama is no pansy, no doormat. All of her ministrations came from a place of strength, not through seething teeth...it was done through eyes of love. I see a lot of women who complain about their husbands, about what they don't do, or what kinds of messes they make. Or they disrespect their kid-like-ness, undoing all that could be magical about that man.  

So you see why Disney holds no fascination for me.