Donuts in the Parking Lot

My parents used to own a large, green Plymouth van. Think 1980’s, pre-conversion van and you have an idea of what it looked like. It would emit a large, blue cloud of smoke when started. We called it mosquito repellent. Of course it was rusty; what American-made car back in those days didn’t rust before its time? The middle and back seats were made of that rubbery plastic sort of material that your skin stuck to during hot, humid summers. Then again, back in the 1980’s, boys’ shorts were a lot shorter, mid-thigh length at best, along with shin- or knee-high socks.

Those were the days.

My dad took us sledding a lot during the winter. One of the best things he ever did was to do donuts in the parking lot after we’d spent our energy sliding down and climbing back up the sledding hill at the local golf course. None of us ever told mom. She found out about these parking lot donut excursions years later. She just shook her head and made a statement along the lines of if I had known about that…

During my second year at bible school, there was a pretty good snowstorm. Those of us who had cars were told to move them into the lot of the adjacent church so the school’s parking lot could be plowed. A friend of mine, and me, did a few donuts in the church’s lot. He did more than I and so suffered a bent front wheel after slamming into a cement barrier.

Tonight in my little corner of Ohio, the weather forecasters are calling for 6-8 inches of snow. I got out of work about half an hour ago and was the first person to drive on the newly accumulating snow. I drove over to one of the lots on campus and did a few donuts in my little red economy car. It might not be that big, green van, but it was like the 1980’s all over again.


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