Lee Geiger

The following conversation took place in our kitchen in mid-May, about a week after The Skinny Kid returned home from his sophomore year at Carnegie Mellon:

Keith:  “Hey Dad, I think I’d like to go back to CMU for summer school and bang out a couple requirements for my major.”

Me:  “Are you sure? Summers in Pittsburgh have been known to melt body parts.”

Keith:  “Dad, there’s a reason God invented air conditioning. And if it’s okay by you, I’d like to drive my car back to school.”

Me:  “I’ll have to discuss that with Mom. But first, I’ve got to clear it with Robo so I can take a week off from work and go with you.”

Keith:  “That won’t be necessary.”

Dad:  “Why not?”

Keith:  “Because you’re not invited.”

Sometime this Monday morning, The Skinny Kid will fire up his 1997 Keithmobile and make his way toward Interstate 80 in Berkeley. His goal is to lay another 2,500 miles to the 175,000 already registered on the lumbering car’s creaky odometer. And yes, he’s traveling solo.

Are The Pretty Blonde and I concerned? You betcha. Keith could wind up in a ditch in Utah, or crack his radiator in Wyoming. Are we worried? Heck yeah. He could wrestle a tornado in Iowa, or fall asleep at the wheel in Illinois. Are we freaking out? Not really. We’ve done our research, and the chances of The Skinny Kid being kidnapped by aliens in Indiana are less than 10%.

Why did we agree to let him do this? Simple. Because he wanted to. Badly. Plus the fact that, unlike the days of yore, Keith will be equipped with a cell phone and a AAA card.

There comes a point in the parental cycle when you’ve got let your child go, to let them learn on their own, to embark upon an odyssey that helps them grow up. For some it’s a summer backpacking trip across New Zealand, a semester in Beijing, or a job at the local lumber mill. In Keith’s case, it’s a romanticized solitary journey across the open road, where he hopes to not only just himself, but a damn good diner as well.

Stay tuned for further updates.