Picnic Quicknic

 Picnic Quicknic

Many years ago when I was just a kid, sometimes my Uncle Charles Bottomley would phone my parents and say, “Let’s go on a picnic.” Most of the time, my Dad Carl Beck and my Mom Sybil Miner Beck would say okay. Mom would head tot the fridge and cupboards. She would begin the search for anything edible and easy to transport for our lunch. Most often she’d find bread, lunch meat, and cheese with the possibility of potato chips or cellophane wrapped store-bought cookies. Finding fruit was another possibility: bananas, grapes, apples, cantaloupe, a watermelon or oranges. Occasionally when the larder had fewer choices or was actually bare, she might grab a can of baked beans, but if she did it would be necessary yo collect a can opener, paper plates and plastic forks. She would retrieve our old picnic basket, fill it with the food treasures, and stow in the trunk of the car or the rear of our station wagon.

The time to picnic didn’t happen right away. We would meet Uncle Charles somewhere and we would follow Charles closely. It was necessary for us to go for a drive and work up an appetite before we would stop for the meal. Somewhere during the trip, we would stop for something to rink. We couldn’t eat sandwiches without something to wash it down. Sometimes it would be milk, other times it would be several bottles of pop: Pepsi, Coca Cola, but most likely it would be a Frosty or A & W root beer.

After a brief pause to purchase drinks, we would continue until Uncle Charles or Dad would see a suitable spot along the road. Sometimes there would be a picnic table placed by the state of Pennsylvania, but most often the spot was a wide berm where both cars could park and there was a large grassy spot to set out our meal. We would enjoy the afternoon and the time spent with our three cousins, Alan, Duane, and Billy Bottomley.

Each picnic was an impromptu gathering. The spur of the moment decision for an adventure made the unexpected journey memorable. Most often it happened on a Sunday afternoon only in the summer or early autumn. I can’t remember a single time of picnicking in the snow or in the rain, but I still have warm memories of those warm summer drives and family picnics.