ジョシュ・ブローリンのインスタグラム(joshbrolin) - 3月27日 06時39分

My mom used to wake us up in the middle of the night. Sometimes she’d be drunk, other times just inspired. “Come on, get up!” she’d say with her polyp-laden SE Texas twang. “...what...?”. “Get up!!! We’re going to Texas. We need to get a Whataburger.” And before we knew it, we’d be climbing into her lime green Cadillac with the 425 cu inch block, the back of the passenger seat slamming our faces before we could even get the sleep out of our eyes, then off we’d go at 90-100mph down Hwy 46 toward the 5 right through the fork where James Dean died not twenty some years before. George Jones or Conway Twitty would always be playing on the radio and, once in while, you’d get Marty Robbins, her favorite, and she’d sing along in the worst, scratchboard key that would splash on our psyche’s forever more — the memory of that sound coming out of her never seizes to make me cringe/smile. The sun would come up and then go down again. We’d watch from those little windows in the back her cigarette smoke swirl in the car before the outside vacuumed it past our faces. Then a roadside motel with ashtrays as big as dinner plates and as heavy as bowling balls and my mother’s Kool King’s always burning down to the speckled gold discolored filter, a half drank doctor pepper sitting next to it, and her talking to someone somewhere on the portable CB or the heavy urine colored motel issued phone with the rotary dial. Sometimes we’d find a bar in town, sometime we’d just watch whatever was on the only channel they got. One time we stopped in a miner’s town and panned for gold. Some old dude taught us how to slowly swirl the pan clockwise until some little nugget revealed itself. My brother got a speck of something goldish, but I came up with nothing so I just stole a jawbreaker as we put the pans back stacking them where the old man said to — gold to me.
Two or three days later we pulled up to this Whataburger, and the lady with the slight mustache poked her head out of the drive-through window and asked my mother what she could get us and my Mom threw her Kool King to the ground and through a smoldering exhale said: “What do you think.”. ——- @floriophoto Phoenix, Arizona • 2008 •

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steviecorks There were times in my childhood when my dad didn't turn up for planned contact. My brother and sister and I would wait patiently in the garden without giving up. Those hours were like a kind of meditation, I had no expectation of an outcome but just remained there passively, not thinking too much about it. And then my mum would come to the rescue, gathering us up and taking us on an adventure, usually to the seaside, sometimes as far as Cornwall! Imagine, a single parent with MS, driving for hours and hours, tending to the emotional wounds of three children who were fighting in the back of the car for half the journey! We grew up on benefits and so most adventures were limited to day trips but she made every minute count, staying out as late as possible and driving back in the dark listening to the radio. We would be sitting in the back of the car, soothed and sleepy, and she would twist her left arm behind the driver's seat, offering her beautiful, elegant mama hand and we would take it in turns to hold it. Last night I was driving up the motorway in the dark, feeling emotional about mothers day, listening to smooth fm (!!) when this song came on. It immediately transported me back to 1980 something when it was often playing on the radio during our drives home. And it was just as though my mama was reaching her arm around the back of the drivers seat and taking my hand... 💕🌠

hopping.monkey Your childhood has some notes of wild and unexpected into it and your mother seems to have it's part in that. I'm impressed you remember so much from then. So little memories I have left from my childhood, broken pieces here and there, glimpses of thoughts and feelings, some glittering brighter than others, but many more slowly fading with the passing years. My memories about my childhood are partially related to the communism who changed my parents shifting their attention from the need of experiencing love and happiness to the need of working with devotion for every day of their lives. I don't remember my parents doing anything else than working much less doing unexpected rides into nowhere in the middle of the night. And yet, my mother was a beautiful proud woman who encouraged my interest in painting for which I am now grateful...

amywilsonbakedgoods It must be a Templeton thing. I remember going with my grandma to the bar at the Iron Horse or Hope and Larry's. She had a 1978 hideously green Coupe De Ville. The whole cab would be heavy with smoke from her cigarette, burning with a good inch of ash on the tip and Barbara Mandrel playing on the 8 track. Sometimes we would head to McCarthy's in Atascadero all while singing Sleeping Single in a Double Bed, I would always get corned beef and cabbage for dinner. Not many people can say they hung out in bars as kids. Its amazing we are still alive🤣

indie1111 my mother’s bats used to get all up in her belfry at all hours of the night. it was time to take us drunk driving at all hours. yay. my brother tells the story better cuz he could act out the three of skidding all the way to the left them all the way to right, making a tire skidding outta control noise. those seats were damn near 10’ wide.

lenidesterr Good script for your next movie. I think you should write the whole movie. Awesome experience. Mom still around? Love you, Josh🤗😍🤩

mindy_tx Being born and raised in Galveston, TX, I can totally understand your Ma's sudden craving for Whataburger. 🤘♥️🍔🍟

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