Just because Pascal asked for it.

In 76, the summer before my senior year, I went out with my mom, dad, sis, and my uncle Frank and aunt Rosie.

We ate in Griffith, in a little steak house called Mr Kenneys, which at the time was the best steak in the region.
And Frank got a migrane. No, he didn’t order it off the menu, it just came free of charge.

Anyway, because he was even more irritated by the heat in the restaurant and the smell of the cooking meat, he went out to the car to sit and rest his eyes.

We finished the meal quickly, so as not to make him sit there too long, and on the way home, fired up the air conditioning. THis was the Olds, the first car we ever had with air, a big deal at that time.

it also had power windows. Frank was sitting in the passenger seat and resting his head on the headrest, just enjoying the breeze. I’m in between frank and dad, who is driving. Sis is behind me, mom behind frank, Rosie behind Dad.

Rosie, ever sensitive, yells “Frank, roll your goddamned window up, Marion’s got the air on” She reaches up between the seat and the door to the master window control, and rolls up uncle Frank’s window.

A few miles further on, the closeness gets to Frank, and he turns his head….

and attempts to throw up out the closed window.

The puke- consisting of flabby limp chunks of the caesar salad, because he never got to the main course, spewed against the closed window with incredible force, dripped down the window and filled the bottom of the inside of the door. It stayed there a long time, and we could hear it slosh from time to time for the rest of that summer. The car smelled like puke for a long time after.