Unlikely incidents often make the best memories

Despite my terrible memory, I remember as if it were yesterday a trip I took to Boston as a child. I was probably about nine, and my mother and I traveled to Boston with her best friend and her daughter, and a few others, for a little history lesson about the Boston Tea Party.

No one in our group lived in Boston, and so their subway system was a bit nerve-wracking for all the adults involved. Somehow, our group became divided when the doors slammed shut before we all could make it on the train. I was one of the ones who did not make it on. You would have thought the adults with me had forever been disconnected from sanity prior to someone making the bright assertion that perhaps the folks who did make it on the train would get off at the next stop and wait for us.

The reunion, 10 minutes later, started with bickering and ended with laughter.

Often times it seems like events such as that -- the events that annoy you at the time -- are ones that make a trip most memorable.

When I was a freshman in college, I went to Washington D.C. with my mom, grandmother and wise guy little brother, Joe. At one point on our tour, we had to travel up this enormous escalator during the bustling hours of the mid-week. My brother, the show-off that he was back then, thought it would be cute to do a little jig on the escalator. His behind got a little too far out of his personal space and knocked my poor grandmother out of balance. Soon, she was grasping the railing for dear life. I was at the back of our four-person group, trying with all my might not to let go of the moving rail while supporting the weight of us all.

It had a true domino effect and the overcrowded escalator was soon the butt of my brother's, well, butt. This could have ended disastrously, but somehow we managed to catch our balance and make it to the top of the escalator.

Again, not funny at the time, but every time I think of that trip to D.C. this is what comes to mind, and I laugh, recalling what a great trip it actually was.

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of visiting friends in Dallas, Texas. I have flown through Dallas many times, but I had never visited the city and looked forward to the trip which included eating good steak, visiting where J.F.K. was assassinated, driving through the ritzy neighborhood where George W. now lives and checking out the old stockyards.

We saw the Fort Worth Stockyards last Saturday. This is where all the cowboys, bankers and leather makers once thrived. Now it's a history book of the livestock industry in Texas and it features shops, restaurants, museums and a live cattle drive daily.

It was hot, and, when finished at the stockyards we had a bit of driving to do before we could begin getting ready for our plans Saturday evening, which included dinner at a Brazilian steak house, where diners are able to try several (by several, I mean about 15) different cuts of meat in one setting. If you've never been to one, it's worth the trip, but arrive hungry.

Anyway, back to the famous drive from the stockyard. Chris and Lisa, our hosts, planned to take us back to their beautiful home in Waxahachie, Texas, about 40 minutes outside of Fort Worth.

About 10 minutes after leaving the stockyard, their car broke down. Now, if you knew Chris and Lisa this would make perfect sense to you, but let's just say it's a classic story of a relationship between a man and wife. Lisa said she had been warning Chris for weeks that her car needed some maintenance work, but Chris, one of the busiest people I know, put her off ... until the alternator and battery showed him he'd waited too long!

We broke down on a busy interstate, similar to one in downtown Nashville. Luckily, we made it to the exit ramp, where Jack, myself and Lisa waited in the scorching sun for as long as it took for Chris to fetch a new battery.

Chris managed to get a ride to an auto store from a kind stranger, and soon enough we were on our way ... too bad it was the wrong way. As steam escaped Lisa's ears, she informed Chris he had gotten on the wrong interstate after installing the new battery (about 20 minutes after we'd resumed driving).

This meant a 40-minute drive (did I mention the air conditioner was not working?) turned into a two-hour drive.

When I think of Dallas, and all the good eats, sight seeing and fun with friends that was had, there's no doubt one of the first things that will come to mind will be the nearly-unbearable Texas roadside trap.

And I will laugh.

-- Sadie Fowler is lifestyles editor at the Times-Gazette. She can be reached at sfowler@t-g.com. This column is scheduled to publish each Sunday.