We were heading out in the car, stopped at the red light, when she looked over and said the man in the car next to us was a hippie. I glanced right, and saw an older man, looking like he was heading to work, no signs of hippie to my eyes. "Why do you say that" I ask, and exasperated, she says, slowly and surely so I can 'get it', "because he drives like he is hip!" And she puts her arm out on an imaginary steering wheel, wrist on top, hand hanging down..."a hippie"!!!
And I instantly see in my minds eye my own dad, much younger (I am a child beside him) driving with his wrist on the wheel - a cool customer. Flash to years later and he stops by to visit his daughter, living with her hippie friends, for a morning cup of coffee (I made him a smoothie). I walked him out to his car after. He put his arm on the wheel, sat there smiling at me, lingered with his hand dangling, and then slowly turned, looking over his shoulder, backed out the drive.
Thanks Dad. This memory makes me smile.
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