Happy Birthday, Leith

Today is my brother Leith's birthday and I've said it before and I'll say it again, a fellow couldn't ask for a better brother. Since this is a travel blog, I've selected a shot of Leith giving me a sweet ride in his custom '61 wagon. Love the vanity plate. He's also rocking a cool lumberjack look here. I've always been glad to go along for the ride with Leith and we've had many great times together. Here's wishing for many more.

Happy birthday, Leith

Today is my brother Leith's birthday and I've said it before and I'll say it again, no one could ask for a better sibling. He's also the coolest cat I know. He's so cool, in fact, I'm sure he doesn't want me to say so.

The really cool people don't become cool, they're born that way. Here's to the real deal.

Happy birthday, Leith

Leith and me in the "way back" of our awesome 1961 Chevy station wagon, circa 1964.

Today is my brother Leith's birthday and a fellow could not ask for a better sibling. He's my "big" brother, and although I'm a little bigger than he is physically, I've always seen him as a much bigger man than me. Roadtrip-wise, we've had many fun and funny shared experiences, especially on the long trips my family would take driving from Connecticut to Florida to visit my grandparents when we were young. Those trips left an indelible image on me and I'm sure my love of long driving trips today comes from those journeys we took when I was a kid. Back then, he and I would ride around in the back of our giant Ford or Chevy station wagon, with the backseat folded down! In today's era of seat belts, airbags and child fortification, it's amazing to think of the free reign we had within a car going 65 miles per hour (with a dog and cat in tow, no less). We always went to Florida in the summer, too, so all the car windows were down all the time. This wind tunnel effect would drive me insane today but back then it didn't seem to bother us at all. It did cause the lid of our Spirograph set to disengage itself from its box and fly out the window, completely on its own mind you, somewhere in the Mid-Atlantic region, though. Leith and I both witnessed this aberration and still laugh about it today... just one of the many great memories of growing up with a great brother. Happy birthday, Leith...a tip-o-the hat and thanx!

Talkin' trash: Dumpsters and garbage cans seen along the way

A Viking theme seems appropriate for chilly Duluth, Minnesota.

Moundsville, West Virginia has a mighty fine dumpster parked between the Grave Creek Mound (they don't call it Moundsville for nothing, you know) and the former state penitentiary.

The Boot Hill Graveyard offered this litter bit of Tombstone, Arizona pride...

...while the tiny town of Leith, North Dakota offeres a homegrown approach while pitching in lock, stock and barrel.

First, the obligatory puns: These places provided an offer I couldn't refuse. Therein lies the rubbish. Yes we can. I'm making a receptacle of myself so let's put a lid on it.

Sometimes when you're on a roadtrip, every little thing seems interesting and the mundane becomes "fundane." Even a dumpster can be a source of whimsy or regional pride. These are a few that caught my eye, and as the great Archie Bunker once said, if you don't like it, lump it, take it down the road and dump it.

Happy birthday, Leith

My brother always saw to it that I was well-fed.

Someone driving by asked if we were lost when I got out to take this picture in Leith, North Dakota.

Leith, North Dakota welcomes you...

...as does the Leith Run in Ohio.

Today is my brother Leith's birthday and I wish everyone was lucky enough to have a brother as good as he is. He was my mentor when I was growing up and it seems appropriate that his birthday falls on or near Thanksgiving because I've always been thankful for having him. There's a connection here roadtrip-wise, too. Leith was a bit of a map-savant as a child and always told my parents what route to take and which exit they needed on our many long road excursions. He was only nine, but without his navigation skills, we probably would have wound up in the Georgia swamp or something on the way from Connecticut to Grandma's house in Florida (I, on the other hand, was always content to snooze in the way-back of the station wagon). More recently, Leith's unusual name has popped up on some of our roadtrips. We visited the tiny deserted town of Leith, North Dakota, and passed by the Leith Run near the Ohio River. If anyone out in blogland knows of any other places named Leith, I'd love to add them to our collection. So happy birthday, Leith, and remember: the time to laugh is when the profit is made.