We went into one small stop once, and found the men's and ladies' rooms down a dark, narrow corridor. As usual, I gave explicit instructions: If you are done before I am, stay right here. But 10 year old boys and curious little monkeys have plenty in common. When I emerged from the ladies--and I was sure he had long-since finished--he was not in the hallway.
A very tall trucker was standing outside the men's room.
"Ya lookin' for a little guy?"
"Yes," I answered, hoping I didn't sound anxious.
He nodded towards a doorway off the corridor. "In there." He sounded like John Wayne.
I stepped down the hall and peered into a cool, dark, smoke-filled room full of truck-drivers sitting in rocking chairs, watching Bugs Bunny cartoons on a big TV. And my son was sitting there, too.
Screen attraction is one of his attributes; I'm glad it was a wholesome show.
Today is the 75th anniversary of Bugs. Here's how it all started:
