“Blah blah blah blah blah” is what I mostly remember.
Whatever pearls of wisdom my dad was actually trying to impart have long since fled my brain. All I can say with certainty is that an invitation from dear dad to accompany him solo on some short errand or another was a one-way ticket to the dreaded car lecture.
For some reason, my dad has always loved to dispense “advice” to captive audiences in moving vehicles. And, strangely, I always kind of liked it. Even though I can’t recall what any of the actual lectures were about. It’s not that I wasn’t listening, because I usually was, even when I was defensively interrupting with profound rebuttals that went something like, “I know! I KNOW!” to fend off the unsolicited intrusion into my teenage life.* It’s just that more meaningful to me in the long term is the quality time spent together. I always jumped at the chance for those short errands, even though I knew that a lecture was inevitably part of the deal.
My dad still loves to give advice and I still pretend to agree. Usually followed immediately by doing whatever I want however I was going to do it in the first place. I still love those car lectures, though. Just don’t anyone tell him I said so.
* Not that I ever claim superior knowledge now. Of course not. Never. I am absolutely certain that I have not done such a thing in at least the last 24 hours.