banana splits

In the summer, it seems I was outside playing all the time; whether it was splashing in perfectly created mud puddles, running back and forth across the front yard practicing THE perfect round- off or a very intense game of kickball with the other neighborhood kids in our cul-de-sac  ‘til it was pitch black outside.  I would be all wrapped up with whatever I was doing until I froze immediately as I heard our front door open and close.  Out of the shadows of the unlit porch came my dad in his khaki Coleman jumpsuit and Johnston and Murphy dress shoes, which screamed a spur of the moment outing.

“Hey Dad!  Where ‘ya goin’?”

There were usually two guaranteed and distinctive answers my dad would give when asked of his travel plans.

The first answer was usually…

 “Crazy.”

Never really knew what that one meant.  He usually went by himself. However, ‘crazy’ usually brought back Jamil’s ribs.  It was certainly a special summer time treat.

The second answer was…

“Braum’s.  Wanna come?”

I hustled my bustle, either trying one more “walk-over” gymnastic move, or either leaving the team hanging or going ahead and running to home base to gain that one extra point they needed before I bolted into his big brown Lincoln Town Car.  Dad would turn on the air conditioning full blast with that musty smell only real leather and cigarettes could offer through the open and freely flowing vents.  Then he would pop in the car lighter, light his cigarette, open the sunroof and turn on his 8-track tape to Waylon, Meat Loaf, or Neil and away we went.

He was the coolest dad ever.

As we were out cruising, there wasn’t much conversation.  I would spend most of the trip playing with the seat buttons making the seat go up and down, recline and sit back up, move up towards the dash and back while singing Sweet Caroline with Neil.  Dad never said a word. He would just occasionally look at me and smile.  I interpreted that as he was totally cool with my front seat amusement.

Yep, super cool indeed.

We would eventually get to Braums and Dad would ask what I wanted. I was overwhelmed with the possibilities in front of me. He then helped me out of my creamy quandary and asked if I wanted the ultimate ice cream concoction.

“Do you want a banana split?” he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

I didn’t have to say a word.  My smile confirmed my answer.

He would order two banana splits ‘to go’, then we would take them outside and eat them in the car; windows down, music still playing with the bass blasting, and the air conditioner still cranked (never figured that one out either).  Again, we would not say a word. We would just sit and enjoy the silence of banana, ice cream, hot fudge, marshmallow and strawberry yumminess topped with whipped cream, nuts and a cherry.

We finished up and headed home once again jamming to “Willie, Waylon and the Boys”. By this time, the air conditioning was turned off and the windows were down. My new game was sticking my hand outside the window moving my hand up and down, allowing it to soar against the wind current.  I felt so full and so free in my own little world…just me and my dad. 

Once we pulled in the driveway, I quickly yelled a thank you to him as I ran off with my friends, finding out what I missed and what new game we could come up with (usually WAR).  I heard the door open and close behind him as he went back into the house, knowing he was getting ready to sit in his spot on the couch, light his cigarette and hide behind the newspaper for the evening.

Truly, the coolest dad ever.

I occasionally give dad a banana split for his birthday or Father’s Day.  He loves it almost as much as I did when I was a kid.  I guess I am returning the favor for creating that one memory that is firmly planted in my childhood….with a smile.