When my daughter was young, road trips to Florida topped her (and her parents’) “Favorite Things” list.
Nothing beat grabbing backpacks, sunglasses, and the road atlas and hitting I-95 South. Our family photograph albums swell with hilarious episodes, such as the three of us dissolving into hysterical giggles over discovering Mr. Pibb soda in Georgia (we were slaphappy from driving), or out-of-body moments like floating on an aquamarine sea and sky on the Seven Mile Bridge in the Florida Keys.
Even “National Lampoon’s Vacation” pales in comparison to our road trips.
According to a recent headline in The New York...