Love this so much! It seems like you just leaned back, closed your eyes, and the memories rolled out, the writing effortless. What great parents you had. You look like Robert Redford in ‘The Way We Were’ in the photo with your parents. 😁
Thanks, Brenda. You’re right, this essay flowed as the memories are still vivid. And yes, I was blessed to have great parents. As for the Redford resemblance, I did hear that from time to time. But alas, those lush and think blonde bangs are now thin and sparse!
Beautiful memories shared, thank you. Growing up in Southern California, my parents had a road trip planned nearly every summer; and I enjoyed them fully, following the map with my finger. Your story reminded me of my own father’s army blanket, which was thin (but very warm) and carried the many scents of the elements. Among the flares, flashlight, and assorted tools, the blanket was a staple in the trunk of dad’s car. As a young girl, I remember complaining about the smell, itchiness, and offending color, unthinking of the memories that it might have carried for my dad. Today I wonder if it offered comfort during his days as a lonely soldier (his words) during the Korean War. When he tossed it away-he smiled to me and said “adios, itchy blanket.” Back then, I thought, “good riddance!” Now, I wish that I would have asked more questions to learn what accompanied stories were left along with it.
I suspect, Maria, there were a lot of dads back then with those army blankets. Sadly, when my father eventually gave up the Lincoln, the blanket was still in the trunk.
Wonderful to reminisce about our wonderful parents and places that hold distinctive memories. Carmel has a truly special relaxed vibe. I have vacationed there many times with my family. As we age, time passes, accelerates and the irreplaceable memories we try to reclaim never are ever duplicated with same essence of wonder, pure emotions and presence. Forever gone but not forgotten. Thanks, John for the journey back to The Way We Were!
Yes. The things we too often take for granted are the very ones that give us peace, confidence, and reassurance in an always unsettling world. Thank you for these memories we can all relate to.
You're welcome, Brucebaugh. The world can often be unsettling, and ever changing. Which gets harder as we get older and miss "the ways things used to be."
I have many memories of Carmel, and Hog Breath Inn...makes me feel sad in a way to think about the love ones we knew there, now gone...this essay is a beautiful reminiscence of all things beautiful, thank you so much...
Another great post, John. Thanks for writing it and bringing back memories. I visited Carmel many times while a student at Berkeley and later while employed by Lockheed. My wife and I love Carmel. We spent our honeymoon there and have been back several times to celebrate anniversaries. We may have dined at the Hogs Breath Inn. I'm glad you finally got to meet Clint Eastwood. He was mayor of Carmel for a while, wasn't he?
I live halfway around the world in Mumbai, India. Felt a deep surge of nostalgia as you related your weekend experiences by the beach , as my mind reminisced back to over 50 years ago to the times I shared with my parents . C'est la vie . Thank you for sharing your thoughts every week. . .
I love the photo of you with your Mom and Dad. what promise lay ahead for you. Fascinating that your capable, well educated father was a driver like you said he was. How fascinating that you approached Clint Eastwood. After all is said and done, he was still a person who put his pants on one leg at a time. I always enjoy your poignant writing, and treasure the 3 books I have of yours. Thank you for being a sane voice in a time of temporary insanity in the US. Diana H
Many thanks, Diana. Have you noticed that even the most accomplished, amazing people can have their contradictions. For my father, it was driving. He was a type A personality and impatient at times behind the wheel. Sometimes I am too, and I try to catch myself. I think "what if the woman driving too slowly in front of me just lost her husband that day" or "the man in that car slowing me down was diagnosed with cancer and is still a little stunned." We never really know what quiet catastrophes others are facing, and if we knew, we'd feel pretty terrible about our impatience.
Brenda- Thanks. I think I was about 16 in the photo, as it was the only one I had of us standing outside the Hog's Breath Inn. But in the story, I was around 13 years old.
The scents of our lives: from memories of strong cigarettes in Spanish elevators (1962) to the neatly folded waxed green tarpaulin that I found again I’m my father’s basement after he had passed. He meticulously swept and folded that tent pad, and later instructed an impatient 13 year old to do the same until I got it right. As I gathered it for the donation pile, the scent tugged an emotional chord. I did separate with that tarp, but the memory lives with me still. Thanks for triggering John, with your own memory.
Douglas- Yes, scents. Freshly baked cornbread calls up memories of my Irish grandmother in the kitchen. The scent of fudge reminds me of my paternal grandmother, who baked fudge for us. And there's this sweet fragrance, like honey suckles and petrichor, that takes me back to a girl in college and a weekend along the coast.
I'm a long way from California, but there are memories of going with my Dad to a small town on Vancouver Island, where we would go to a live stock auction. The first part was outside with the smaller animals, chickens, ducks, rabbits. Next, inside there were calves, sheep, goats, cows. My Dad bought me my first horse there.
The livestock auction was the setting, not the beach which your family went to, but the feeling of belonging with my Dad, taking part in buying some hens, or the great day of buying the horse, those are memories I hold close in my heart.
Thank you for sharing your story and the memory triggers.
Beautiful memories, Delaine. I've always been an animal lover, and can remember all the dogs and cats and birds who graced our lives. And the horse "Jonce" that my father bought for my sister. And how she eventually lost interest in the horse because of boys, and so my dad decided to ride Jonce and was bucked off and once we knew he was okay we never let him live it down.
Love this so much! It seems like you just leaned back, closed your eyes, and the memories rolled out, the writing effortless. What great parents you had. You look like Robert Redford in ‘The Way We Were’ in the photo with your parents. 😁
Thanks, Brenda. You’re right, this essay flowed as the memories are still vivid. And yes, I was blessed to have great parents. As for the Redford resemblance, I did hear that from time to time. But alas, those lush and think blonde bangs are now thin and sparse!
I know the feeling! The way we were indeed! 😂
Now I had to look that up and yes, indeed!
Beautiful memories shared, thank you. Growing up in Southern California, my parents had a road trip planned nearly every summer; and I enjoyed them fully, following the map with my finger. Your story reminded me of my own father’s army blanket, which was thin (but very warm) and carried the many scents of the elements. Among the flares, flashlight, and assorted tools, the blanket was a staple in the trunk of dad’s car. As a young girl, I remember complaining about the smell, itchiness, and offending color, unthinking of the memories that it might have carried for my dad. Today I wonder if it offered comfort during his days as a lonely soldier (his words) during the Korean War. When he tossed it away-he smiled to me and said “adios, itchy blanket.” Back then, I thought, “good riddance!” Now, I wish that I would have asked more questions to learn what accompanied stories were left along with it.
I suspect, Maria, there were a lot of dads back then with those army blankets. Sadly, when my father eventually gave up the Lincoln, the blanket was still in the trunk.
seems right that they should travel together
Wonderful to reminisce about our wonderful parents and places that hold distinctive memories. Carmel has a truly special relaxed vibe. I have vacationed there many times with my family. As we age, time passes, accelerates and the irreplaceable memories we try to reclaim never are ever duplicated with same essence of wonder, pure emotions and presence. Forever gone but not forgotten. Thanks, John for the journey back to The Way We Were!
Thanks, Richard. "Forever gone but not forgotten." Exactly.
Yes. The things we too often take for granted are the very ones that give us peace, confidence, and reassurance in an always unsettling world. Thank you for these memories we can all relate to.
what a beautiful way... to say what you did.... I think is was the part about the unsettling world ....
You're welcome, Brucebaugh. The world can often be unsettling, and ever changing. Which gets harder as we get older and miss "the ways things used to be."
I have many memories of Carmel, and Hog Breath Inn...makes me feel sad in a way to think about the love ones we knew there, now gone...this essay is a beautiful reminiscence of all things beautiful, thank you so much...
Thanks, Frank. It is a bit melancholy to revisit beloved places where once we spent time with loved ones now gone. But I’m thankful for the memories.
Comforting tale, of a beautiful area, village and the Inn. Thank you for sparking memories of times spent there!
You’re welcome, John, glad it brought back good memories.
Another great post, John. Thanks for writing it and bringing back memories. I visited Carmel many times while a student at Berkeley and later while employed by Lockheed. My wife and I love Carmel. We spent our honeymoon there and have been back several times to celebrate anniversaries. We may have dined at the Hogs Breath Inn. I'm glad you finally got to meet Clint Eastwood. He was mayor of Carmel for a while, wasn't he?
Bob- Yes, Carmel is special. And Clint did serve as Mayor years back. Thanks for reading
great piece John...picturing everything clearly thanks for sharing especially about your parents
Thanks for reading, Julie.
I live halfway around the world in Mumbai, India. Felt a deep surge of nostalgia as you related your weekend experiences by the beach , as my mind reminisced back to over 50 years ago to the times I shared with my parents . C'est la vie . Thank you for sharing your thoughts every week. . .
Thanks, Raj. It's good to remember the ones we loved.
I love the photo of you with your Mom and Dad. what promise lay ahead for you. Fascinating that your capable, well educated father was a driver like you said he was. How fascinating that you approached Clint Eastwood. After all is said and done, he was still a person who put his pants on one leg at a time. I always enjoy your poignant writing, and treasure the 3 books I have of yours. Thank you for being a sane voice in a time of temporary insanity in the US. Diana H
Many thanks, Diana. Have you noticed that even the most accomplished, amazing people can have their contradictions. For my father, it was driving. He was a type A personality and impatient at times behind the wheel. Sometimes I am too, and I try to catch myself. I think "what if the woman driving too slowly in front of me just lost her husband that day" or "the man in that car slowing me down was diagnosed with cancer and is still a little stunned." We never really know what quiet catastrophes others are facing, and if we knew, we'd feel pretty terrible about our impatience.
What a BEAUTIFUl story..one that really FILLS you right up ...
You were really 13 in that picture ??? ( look 16 )
and a piano singer too boot !!!
Brenda- Thanks. I think I was about 16 in the photo, as it was the only one I had of us standing outside the Hog's Breath Inn. But in the story, I was around 13 years old.
The scents of our lives: from memories of strong cigarettes in Spanish elevators (1962) to the neatly folded waxed green tarpaulin that I found again I’m my father’s basement after he had passed. He meticulously swept and folded that tent pad, and later instructed an impatient 13 year old to do the same until I got it right. As I gathered it for the donation pile, the scent tugged an emotional chord. I did separate with that tarp, but the memory lives with me still. Thanks for triggering John, with your own memory.
Douglas- Yes, scents. Freshly baked cornbread calls up memories of my Irish grandmother in the kitchen. The scent of fudge reminds me of my paternal grandmother, who baked fudge for us. And there's this sweet fragrance, like honey suckles and petrichor, that takes me back to a girl in college and a weekend along the coast.
I'm a long way from California, but there are memories of going with my Dad to a small town on Vancouver Island, where we would go to a live stock auction. The first part was outside with the smaller animals, chickens, ducks, rabbits. Next, inside there were calves, sheep, goats, cows. My Dad bought me my first horse there.
The livestock auction was the setting, not the beach which your family went to, but the feeling of belonging with my Dad, taking part in buying some hens, or the great day of buying the horse, those are memories I hold close in my heart.
Thank you for sharing your story and the memory triggers.
Delaine.
Beautiful memories, Delaine. I've always been an animal lover, and can remember all the dogs and cats and birds who graced our lives. And the horse "Jonce" that my father bought for my sister. And how she eventually lost interest in the horse because of boys, and so my dad decided to ride Jonce and was bucked off and once we knew he was okay we never let him live it down.
❤️
Lovely.
Thanks for reading, Jane.
“Hogs breath is better than no breath at all.” Tom
Yep, I’m just glad the restaurant is still going after all these years.