Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe - Dads - Field Trip & Dave and the Rollercoaster

Episode Date: June 5, 2026

We're a few weeks early, I know, but this week on the podcast we’re celebrating Dads! We’ve got two hilarious stories about Dave’s parenting adventures.Ad-free listening is here! Listen to the pod ad-free and early, PLUS a whole bunch of other goodies – like virtual parties, Q&As, listener shout-outs & more. Subscribe here: apostrophe.supercast.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

From the apostrophe podcast network. Hello, I'm Jess Milton, and this is backstage at the Vinyl Cafe. Welcome. It's almost Father's Day. And I know, I know, it's not for a couple of weeks, but I've noticed something. We start hearing about Mother's Day weeks in advance. There's ads on TV, there's emails reminding you to make brunch reservations, or sign up for that special Sunday morning yoga class. But Father's Day kind of sneaks up on you, or it sneaks up on me. One day, it's Tuesday, and then the next day you're standing in some all-night grocery store, like Dave on Christmas Eve, wondering if beef jerky counts as a gift, which it does. It totally does, at least in my house. Josh would appreciate a bag of beef jerky so much more than a tie.

And so in this little corner of this very big world, I'm going to do my best to rectify the Father's Day imbalance. This is your reminder. Father's Day is in two weeks. If there is a father in your life that you want to honor, start thinking about him now. I'm lucky to have two fathers in my life. First, my husband Josh, who is an amazing parent in all of the ways that I am not. He is such a great teacher. He's so good at explaining things to the kids and helping them understand the world.

He's so good at hanging out with them and just being with them, playing cards, doing puzzles, puttering around the yard. He's funny. He doesn't take life too seriously, and he makes sure that I don't either. And he is the absolute best person to have around in an emergency. He's smart and confident and impossible to fluster. We are all so lucky to have him in our lives. And my dad, who, well, let's just say if you know Dave from the Vinyl Cafe, then you kind of know my dad in all of the best ways.

And in a couple of the other ways, too. We'll talk about that more later in the show. So today on the pod, it's all about our favorite. dad, Dave. We've got two stories about Dave's parenting style. We're going to start with this one. This is Stuart McLean with Field Trip. The first week after Christmas vacation, Sam brought a note home from school. His class was going on a field trip. They're going to spend an afternoon at the Matisse exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Sam needed his mother or father to sign his permission form. Now getting something like this signed is a lot trickier than it sounds.

Kid doesn't do this sort of thing without careful thought. First about who they're going to take it to and second about when they're going to present it. Sam took his note to his mother, waited until she was on the phone, just don't want to give them a chance to ask questions. Didn't take the note to his father because Sam has learned that when dating, Dave hears about field trips, wants to go. By the time you're in grade five having your father on a field trip, that's the last thing you want. Unfortunately for Sam, Dave's job has always afforded him the flexibility of being available for this sort of thing. For two years, Dave ran pizza lunch at Sam's school, which was actually a great thing for Sam.

When you're in grade two, you get a lot of status when your friends learn your dad delivers pizza. Well, why couldn't you get a job like that? said Sam's friend to Ben to his father one night. What a lawyers do anyway? Now, because of his availability, Dave has had more experience than many of his friends of squiring kids around. He's done birthday parties and sleepovers. He's coached baseball and hockey, and he's done field trips. Field trips have never been his strongest suit. Dave only got to go on one school trip when he was a boy, grade five.

it was one of the greatest disappointments of his young life. Every other grade five before and after Dave's class at Big Narrows Elementary School in Big Narrows, Cape Breton, was taken to Doris Eckerley's brick-apron bakery on Main Street for their field trip. And not just to the front of the bakery where you went to buy stuff, but right into the back where they baked it. The grade fives went there every year, and when they came back to school, they brought back horrifying stories about the back of the bakery. Stories that would curdle your blood, especially if you happen to be in grade two.

The grade twos would listen to the stories at recess and many of them would start to weep because they knew that one year they would have to go to the back of the bakery. And when they went there they would meet Chopsy, the one-eyed baker, who never shaved. and chewed foul-smelling cigar butts and breed fish breath on you and stared at you with one bulging infected yellow eye. All the kids knew the story of Chopsie. Chopsie had been a cook during the war, and the soldiers and Chopsie's unit were fearless because they were so well-fed.

They'd do anything as long as they knew they could get back for supper every night because Chopsie was the greatest chef in the entire army. And then one day, Chopsie's unit was cut off from their supply lines. They were trapped in this town by the enemy, and as the days went by, the generals came to Chopsie, and they said, we're doomed unless you can do something. They were running out of food, and anyone would have given up, anyone else would have given up, but not Chopsie. Chopsie sneaked into the sewers at night in this town, wherever they were.

it was like in Poland or Saskatchewan or something. And Chopsy would hunt for rats in the sewer, and every morning before dawn he'd return with a bag full of writhing rats. And because they were short on ammo, he had to use his carving knife to kill the rats. And that's how he got his nickname. And he cooked those rats so incredibly that none of the men had any idea they were eating rats.

Chopsie told them it was quail. And they all survived. Except Chopsie went crazy. which was why he was living in Cape Breton. But the most horrible thing was that Chopsie had developed a taste for rats, and he raised them in a secret room in the back of the bakery. And the rats ate children. And that's why they had the tours,

because Chopsie needed children to feed the rats. And there were kid traps in the back of the bakery. There were vats of whipped cream back there that were just traps for kids. Boys wandered into those vats of whipped cream and they're never seen again. Vanished. And it didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened to them. Chopsie. Parents wouldn't talk about this because parents didn't want kids getting worried.

But everyone knew that's what happened to Chan Gillespie. The grown-up said that Chan had gone to boarding school in New Brunswick, but Joey Talleyco's older brother, Michael, found him. what a chan Gillespie's hairs in a chocolate E. Clair. And he kept it in a jar in his locker. And for five cents, he'd open his locker and show the hair, do you? And for a dime, he'd let you hold the jar. Dave and Billy Mitchell had been looking forward to their trip to the bakery since grade three. They had a plan. They were going to take Dave's younger sister Annie with them, who was in kindergarten. And they figured if Chopsie came after them, they'd

offer Annie in their place. And then they were going to dump Billy's marble collection into the mixing machine. The machine that mixed the cake dough, see if they could get real marble cake. But they didn't go to the bakery that year. They went to the sardine plant.

Sardine plants no longer operating in big narrows that was closed in 1961. After a Norwegian sardine expert came to the narrows and told them they had to changed the way they were packing the sardines. They used to put the sardines into the can in two rows with their tails resting at either end and their little sardine snouts meeting in the middle of the cans.

And the guy from Norway came to town told them they should put the tails in the middle and the snouts at the ends. Said the tails were flipping out of the cans from time to time and they weren't sealing properly. The women in the big narrows plant took this as a personal insult. We've been packing sardines this way. for 22 years, said Norma Kavanaugh, when she heard about the proposal, and I ain't changing. No way, Tails is coming out, said Nancy McDougal.

Plant closed soon after that. Before it closed, they had begun to pack them tail in, but it was too late. Anyway, Dave and Billy had to go to the sardine plant the year they were in grade five. Dave still can't open a tin of sardines without checking for marbles. That was it for field trips. Dave didn't go on another school trip for 30 years until Sam was in grade 2, which was before Sam had figured out who he should take his notices to when they needed to be signed. They went to the zoo.

Dave was given a group, well, that was the problem. By the time they got to the hippo paddock, Dave couldn't remember how many kids he was supposed to have in his group. He knew six was part of the equation, but he couldn't. I didn't remember if it was Sam plus five made six or Sam plus six made seven, which wasn't such a big deal right then, but could be at the end of the day. It wasn't important at the hippo paddock because one of the six or seven. At this point, as I say, the numbers weren't that important because one of Dave's kids, a kid called Mark Portner, had somehow scaled the concrete wall surrounding the paddock and was marching. back and forth along the top of the wall, screaming, come and get me.

And one of the hippos, an animal about the size of a bus, seemed to be thinking it over. Dave got Mark Portner off the wall, which was harder than it sounds. And he said, as everyone here and everyone said yes, and Dave counted them, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. And then he said, hey, to the kid in the Montreal Canadian hockey sweater who was walking away from the group,

What's your name? And that's George, said Mark Portner. He's in my Hebrew class. And Dave said, okay, George, let's go. And George looked at Mark, and Mark said, come on. And Dave, whose patience was growing thin, said, I don't want to hear another word out of anyone. Come on, said Mark Portner.

How was Dave to know that Hebrew school was all that George and Mark had in common? How was Dave to know that George was at the zoo with his mother? How was Dave to know that when he said, okay, George, let's go, that George's mother was standing not 10 yards away, with her back turned to them, tending to George's younger brother? How was Dave to know that when she turned around and found George, her son, had vanished,

George's mother would lodge a frantic report with zoo officials and spend the next three tearful hours waiting in the administrative building? Unless someone told him this, How was Dave to know? All he knew was that at 2 o'clock when they got to the bus, George said, my mom's going to be mad if I get on that bus. And Dave looked at him and said, I'm going to be madder if you don't.

And George started to cry, and Mark Portner said, come on. And George looked at Mark, and then he looked at Dave, and he shook his head, and he said, you're going to be sorry. And then he got on the bus with his head hanging down. And it was only when they got back to the school and all the parents had come and picked up their children. And the only three people left in the schoolyard were Dave and the school principal and George standing between them weeping.

That the enormity of what had happened settled on Dave. Dave eventually got wind of the trip to the Matisse exhibit. You know why I've always liked Matisse, said Dave at supper. Sam shook his head. because, said Dave, putting down his fork, a collector once asked Matisse how long it took to paint some incredibly expensive piece that consisted of just a few breezy lines, and do you know what Matisse said?

He said, it took a lifetime. I don't get it, said Sam. You will, said Dave. They were still looking for parents to go on the trip to the art gallery. It's your big chance to redeem yourself. said Morley. Dave signed up to go, and so did his neighborhood nemesis, Mary Turlington. As soon as Dave saw Mary Turlington standing at the back of the classroom on the day of the trip, all of his confidence evaporated. Mary was holding a clipboard, and a neat pile of name

tags for each kid in her group. Hello, David, she said when she saw him, hi, said Dave, Where do I get the labels? I made them at home, said Mary Archley. There were five boys, including Sam and Dave's group. Five, said Dave, smiling confidently at Sam's teacher as they were getting ready. Five, he repeated earnestly to himself. One for each finger. When no one was looking, he took a ballpoint pen and he wrote the number five in ink on the back of his wrist.

He looked across the room. Mary Turlington had her group sitting. in a circle, she was filling out name tags. Five, said Dave, five would be easy. As it turned out, one of Dave's five was late for school that Tuesday. They just phoned, said Sam's teacher. They're on their way. Go, said Dave, you go, we'll catch up, we'll meet you at the museum. They were traveling by subway. Be careful, whispered Dave to Grace Weed as she led her group out of the classroom. There's a guy in the basement of the museum who's crazy. What? said Grace. Not sure if Dave was serious or not. His name is chopsy, said Dave. I'd watch the kids very carefully if I were you.

The guy's as crazy as a loon. By the time they got to the subway, Dave felt like he was a sheep dog. His boys, they all seemed nice enough. They were wound up like seven-day clocks. keeping these boys together took his full attention. Two of them tried to slip into a corner store to buy candy. No candy, said Dave. At the first intersection, three went one way and two another. Same thing at the next. And then they all wanted pizza.

No pizza, said Dave. No pizza now, no pizza later. We're going to a museum. We're going to see art. We're not going for pizza. It felt like he was in a giant game of snakes and like. ladders. Just as long as he kept everyone in sight, just as long as he returned with the same number he left with five, he said to himself again. Eventually, he chivied his boys onto the eastbound

subway platform. By the time the train arrived, he had them more or less circled. Door of the subway car opened. Wait, said Dave, holding them back a second. Okay, now. And the boys went, but Dave didn't go. He held back, counting the bodies as they got on the train. One, two, three, four. Four boys. Where was five? Dave looked around. There was five. Five was tying up his shoe. Come on, said Dave, looking nervously at the train. Coming, said number five, who hop, slid onto the subway, doing his sneaker up at the same time. Dave sighed, all present and accounted for. Sir, took a look up and down the empty platform, and then he turned to get on the train himself. just in time to watch the doors slide shut in his face,

leaving Dave on the platform and his five boys on the train, which was pulling out of the station. Wait at the next station, he shouted. Last thing he saw of his boys, they were shrugging and pointing at their ears. Took four minutes for the next train to arrive. Four minutes during which Dave accepted Christ Jesus, Jesus as his personal savior. Please, Jesus, he said.

Make them get off at the next station and wait. When it finally arrived, Dave leapt onto the next train, but he didn't stop praying. He wasn't worried that the kids would fall to any harm. They were, after all, ten years old. There were, after all five of them.

It's just that they could get hopelessly lost, and if they got separated, he didn't even want to think of that. it is only a minute and a half ride between stations. Halfway there, Dave's train passed a train coming from where he was heading. Exactly. Dave pressed his face to the car window and saw what he didn't want to see. Sam and his buddies pressed against their window, and they were jumping up and down and waving at him.

Why me, Lord, said Dave. Dave didn't know what to do. should he go back again like the boys had? Were they waiting on the platform for him to appear? Or should he stay put? Someone had to stay put. What would they be thinking? Who knows what a 10-year-old thinks?

Especially when they're five of them. Dave decided to wait. He waited for three trains. Nothing happened. Now he knew the boys were waiting for him. But he knew they knew he was waiting for them. He felt like his head was going to explode. It was a nightmare.

He waited two more trains. And he ran to the other side of the track and he headed back to the station where everything had started. And it was empty. Boys weren't there. They'd either gone back to school or gone to the museum and now Dave felt trapped. He didn't want to alert the school if the kids hadn't.

On the other hand, If the boys were waiting for him at school and he didn't phone, what would they think of him? He decided to make a precautionary call. When the school secretary answered, he said, hi, it's Dave. I'm just checking in, just making sure everything's all right. Everything's okay, said the secretary. She sounded doubtful. Good, said Dave.

Everything's okay here, too. That was pretty strange, said the secretary when she hung up. up. And then because he had no better idea, he got back on the subway, he headed for the museum. And then with a heavy heart, he walked through the large brass front doors, went right for the cafeteria, nothing, went to the gift shop. First, the gift shop looked empty too. Dave was about to leave when he suddenly spotted Mark Portner, the perennial troublemaker. alone in the corner he was supposed to be in Mary Turlington's group had his back to Dave seemed to be holding something in his hands

Dave moved over an aisle to get her better view and as soon as he did he realized what Mark Portner was up to the boy was about to slip whatever he was holding into his backpack Dave knew he had to apprehend the boy he had a split second to decide whether he did it before or after the theft didn't have time to mull over the repercussions of the two possibilities. Operating on instinct, he decided to give the boy a break. What do you have there, Mark? He said as he stepped around the corner of the aisle.

I was just looking at it, said Mark. He was holding a little book. Dave took it from him, great masterpieces of the Western World Daily Affirmation Book. They went up to the museum office together and they found a hysterical Mary Turlington and the rest of her group. He was in the gift shop.

said Dave. Thank you so much, said Mary. I just saw your group working on their sheets on the second floor. I wondered where you were. How did you know we needed help? Oh, said Dave, you know it's okay. He found Sam and the other boys in his group sitting in a circle in front of a painting of a woman and a pair of red gypsy pants and no top. They were so absorbed in the painting they didn't even notice him until he sat down. Sam looked at him and smiled. What took you, he said. Oh, said Dave, you know.

They heard footsteps and they looked up together and they saw Mary Turlington heading toward them. Sam looked back at his dad in time to see his father's face drop. I was thinking, he said, suddenly, a sly look crossing his face. Maybe on our way back to school we could stop for pizza. Dave stared at his son.

in disbelief. I was just thinking, said Sam, just in case anyone asks, he glanced at Mary Turlington, that you know everyone would have much happier memories if they were remembering things on a full stomach. Thank you very much. That was the story we call field trip. That story was recorded back in 2002. My dad was that kind of dad, the field trip dad. And yes, that means he's the kind of dad that might accidentally lose you on the subway. Not, you know, not forever, not in any real way, but just long enough to make the merry Turlington's of this world a little anxious. My dad and Dave actually have a lot of similarities. They're both childlike in nature. They both know how to have fun. They're guided by their gut. They don't overthink. They choose

connection over organization. For them, it's all about people. They're super creative. They think outside the box. Things occur to them that don't occur to other people, which is mostly a good thing, but, you know, not always a good thing. But when you're a little kid, trying to learn about the world, it's pretty amazing to learn about it from someone who isn't bound by rules. or convention. To learn about the world from someone who's curious, whose heart is open, who sees the world as a place full of possibility, and who helps you see it that way too. We're going to take a short break now, but we'll be back in a couple of minutes with another story, so stick around. Welcome back. Time for our second story now. This is Stuart McLean with

Dave and the roller coaster. To the town of Big Narrows in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia, town where Dave grew up was when Dave was a boy, about as far away as you could get from anywhere, unless you left town. Not that there weren't plenty of places in town to keep a boy happy. There was the alley full of steam that ran alongside Art Gillespie's laundromat. Down by the river, there was the chair factory, and you could always find scrapwood there.

And if you had money for ice cream in the summer, there was McDonnell's post office and general store, which is where the kids went for candy, pop, and mad magazine. The teens went for smokes, and parents picked up the big city newspapers, the Glace Bay Coastal Courier, the Andy Ganesh Sunday Casket. Big Narrows was off the main road, no doubt about it still is.

And that made it just about a perfect place to grow up. Though you'd never convince any of the kids of that. When you do your growing up in a place like the Narrows, where you know everything about everyone, and everyone thinks they know everything about you, you spent a lot of time dreaming of the places that you're going to go to, the day you can finally swing clear of the school and clear over the moon. Dave dreamt of landing in Brooklyn, New York,

home of the most famous amusement park in the world, Coney Island. When he got there, he was going to ride the roller coaster. He'd read about it in the Reader's Digest. He'd read that the roller coaster at Coney Island went so fast, it defied gravity. Billy Mitchell said astronauts used to go to Coney Island at night and practice on the thing. Billy and Dave had a plan to go the summer they were 15. They never made it, of course, and soon enough life took over. To everything there is a season, Dave missed the season of roller coasters.

And he forgot about them for 30 long years, until the leafy summer his son, Sam, was six, and Dave remembered, which would have been fine or should have been, except Sam, six, was way too young for roller coasters, and Dave, who was old enough to know better, was way too keen. So off they headed to an amusement park. And when they got there, Sam took one look at the roller coaster, and he started to whimper. Dave said, come on, it'll be fun. Sam shook his head. Dave picked Sam up, more or less, lovingly, and he held him close,

and he began whispering, calming, reassuring things. Sam seemed to relax a little, and Dave continued his supplications. Look, said Dave, pointing at the roller coaster. It'll be fun, said Dave. The people in the roller coaster were clinging to one another. A woman in the front was screaming. No, no, no, no, said Sam.

No, said Sam. And then he collapsed into tears. And Dave's shoulders sagged. He knew it was time to concede defeat. And so he turned and he began to work his way back down the line. Excuse me. I'm sorry. Excuse me, please.

And Sam by now was crying and thrashing and flailing about. in Dave's arms. The crowd in front of him just parted. It was as if he was armed or something, which in a way he was. Dave and Sam spent the rest of the afternoon hiding out in kiddie land, a quiet and grassy oases with a climber,

a vinyl cage of colored balls, and a slide in the shape of an elephant. Sam played happily while Dave sat morosephous. on the bench, pulling little bits of cotton candy out of the hairs on his legs. They went back to the amusement park the summer that Sam was eight. And this time, they were better prepared. They talked about roller coasters for weeks before they went. Sam was pumped.

They lined up for 40 sticky minutes. And when they got to the front of the line, a man wearing a duck costume, took one look at Sam, shook his head, and said, not tall enough. What, said Dave? 54 inches, said the man. He's too short. People began to push past them,

and they headed back to Kittyland. On the way, Sam pointed to a ride. Six giant bumblebees that went around in a small, slow circle. Sam said, can I try it? He rode the bumblebees for half an hour. After a half an hour, he staggered off the ride and said, I don't feel too good. And then one night this summer, Sam said, I still haven't been on a roller coaster.

They went back to the park again, just the two of them, just two weeks ago. They arrived at 6.30. The sun was beginning to death. It was the perfect time to be coming as the day was going. They bought a big roll of tickets. The park was full, just as it should be, thought Dave. You wouldn't want the place to yourself. Diving into the crowd was like shoving a canoe into a stretch of whitewater. The crowd picked you up and carried you along. Somewhere mixed with the noise of the crowd and the ringing bells, somewhere floating above the red and yellow flashing lights, Dave could hear cream. singing the sunshine of my love through a cheap PA. It took them 20 minutes to get to the roller coaster. And when they got there, Dave saw to his distress, though a lot had happened in the world of roller coaster design over the last 40 years.

They were standing in front of the hypergeist. A roller coaster, which the sign said would exert a force of 4.2 Gs as it tossed. and flipped its way through two loops and a corkscrew. There was a very young guy with long hair and a ring through his eyebrows, slouched against a control panel. He looked bored and inattentive. While Dave gave him his tickets, he said, has anyone ever had an accident on this ride?

Not that I've ever noticed, said the kid. Sam said, let's go. there was a big sign. Dave grabbed Sam by the shoulder and held him back. He said, just a minute. Dave wanted to read the sign. Do not speak to the operator, said the sign. Do not walk on the track. Do not put your arms outside the car. Do not ride if you're pregnant. Do not ride if you suffer from heart palpitations, vertigo, high blood pressure, atrial fibrillation, night sweats, anxiety disorder, or peanut allergy. Come on, said Sam. Dave said, just a minute. Dave kept reading. This ride may cause shortness of breath,

excessive sweating, and dry mouth. Dave's tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. Some people may experience nausea, confusion, disorientation, muscle twitches, or an overwhelming desire to urinate. Dave began bobbing up and down. slowly. Do not go on this ride

if you have silver amalgam fillings, or worry about going mad, or have had pre-cognitive experiences that involve hurtling to your death in an amusement park while trapped in a little car that leaves the rails and you didn't have to go

if you didn't want to. And that will be your last thought. Come on, said Sam. I'm not sure I can do this, said Dave. Oh, brother, said Sam. And for the third time in their lives, Dave and Sam slunk out a line. As they passed a group of staring teenagers, Sam muttered, they won't let him on the ride.

He's pregnant. What is the problem, said Sam. I can't do this, said Dave. They were sitting on a park bench. They were eating cotton cans. They were passing a pop back and forth. Sam said, it's normal to be afraid. You're supposed to be afraid.

You aren't going to die. You can't die. Dave thought, sometimes people die. Sam said, not here, not tonight. That would be ridiculous. What are you afraid of? They finished their candy. They finished their pop.

Dave said, I don't know what I'm afraid of. I'm just afraid. Sam stood up and he held out his hand. Dave said, go without me. You go and I'll watch. Sam said, I have a better idea. Okay, said Dave. Sam said, do you trust me? What could he say to that? He nodded his head. Sam said, good, okay. Stand up and close your eyes. promise me you won't open them until I tell you. Dave stood up and he closed his eyes. And Sam took his father's hand. Dave said, if I die, I'm going to kill you.

Sam said, just don't open your eyes. And Sam led him through the park, through the bumps and the bells and the screams. And Dave didn't open his eyes. Not once. It was very, very hard. But Dave kept his promise and his eyes closed. And then they stopped walking. And Dave heard Sam walk up to a ticket taker and stop and say,

My father needs help. He's blind. Now Dave really wanted to open his eyes. But now he couldn't. Now he had to keep them closed because the man had him by the elbow. and the man was helping him into a seat. As he sat down, Dave put out his hand and felt the seat, and, oh, my God, he wanted to look so badly.

But the man was right there. He could feel his breath on his neck. He could sense him reaching across him. He was fastening a seatbelt. He could sense Sam sitting beside him. He could sense the car was starting to move. Sam said, are you scared? Dave said, yes, I'm scared, but it's okay.

Sam said, don't be afraid. They were moving slowly. Dave said, can I open my eyes? Sam said, not yet. They were picking up speed. I can feel it, said Dave. And then Sam said, okay now. And Dave, who had been clutching the bar in front of him, didn't open his eyes right away. Instead, he lifted his hands off the bar and he held his arms over his head. Just like he saw people doing in pictures when they were in roller coasters, he held his hands up in the air and he yelled like those people. He yelled as loud as he could. Then he opened his eyes and saw he was in the giant bumblebee ride. And Sam was sitting beside him with his head in his hands. And there was a group of adults, people who he had never seen before in his life, and every time they went by them, the adults would wave.

Sam said, put your hands down. Dave said, what are we doing? Sam said I was conditioning you. They got off the ride and they went into the Giggle Palace. And they stood in front of the fun house mirrors. Sam's mirror stretched him tall and impossibly thin. Dave's made him look like a little dwarf toad. Perfect, thought Dave.

He couldn't say when it had happened, but he wasn't going to deny it. He couldn't keep up with his children anymore. He felt like he had to run just to keep up these days, and even though he was running as fast as he could, he could feel himself slipping behind. His children were passing him on the highway of life, and this was just another milestone. And soon there would be plenty more. And that wasn't the worst part. One day before he knew it, he'd have to pull over and wave goodbye. Sam would leave him behind. Okay, said Dave, let's do it. Are you sure, said Sam? No, said Dave, but let's do it anyway. And so off they had it,

across the park for the second time that night. Back to the lineup, they had quit three times now. As they came abreast of the warning sign, Dave said, I'm just going to shut my eyes for a moment and go to my happy place. And that's what he did. And Sam led him along the line, talking to him all the time. When we get there, look at the track in front of you. It'll make you feel balanced.

And if you start to feel queasy, push you. your right foot down onto the floor and grab the bar like a steering wheel and pretend you're driving it. Dave opened his eyes and looked at his son. How do you know this stuff? Sam said, I got it online. Dave said, you researched this? Sam shrugged. I figured you might need some help. Before Dave knew it, they were climbing into the roller coaster. Sam turned and looked at looked at his father earnestly, remember he said, you only have to do this once. Dave said, is that from the net, too? Sam nodded, yep. You can repeat it to yourself if it helps. And then a heavy padded bar fell across Dave's lap, and he felt a rush of panic. He didn't have choice anymore.

I only have to do this once. He looked at Sam. Sam. Sam gave him. Sam. Sam gave him. He him the thumbs up. And then the train started to move. The track was rising in front of them. They were climbing a huge hill. It was so steep, they began to tilt backwards, slower and slower, way back. Dave nodded. Dave closed his eyes. I only have to do this once. I only have to do this once. And then they got to the top of the hill. And then they crested the hill. And then they crested the hill. and then they were plunging to the ground and Dave could feel himself coming right out of his seat he was upside down he was right side up he was coming he was going

he looked at Sam Sam's hair was pressed against his head by the wind Sam looked like a dog with his head out of a car window somebody was screaming somebody was screaming from the pit of their stomachs the screams sounded horrible Dave opened his mouth to ask Sam if he was okay and he realized his mouth was already open realized he was the guy screaming. It had begun as a scream of terror. But it was different.

Now, it wasn't a scream of terror anymore. It was a scream of unadulterated joy. Sam was screaming, too, the two of them, screaming like fools. And then Sam lifted his hands and held them over his head. And he turned to his dad, and he said, now. Dave was clutching the padded bar. He had his foot pushed into the floor. I can't, he said, I'm driving.

And then it was over. Just like that, just like that, around a corner, and they pulled into the station. And Sam held his hand up, and Dave uncurled his fingers from the bar one by one. And he high-fived his son. And Sam said, how do you feel? And Dave said like a kid. Then he said, can we do it again? On their way out of the park, they walked by a merry-go-round, a beautifully restored carousel of the old style, painted wooden ponies with genuine leather reins.

Dave held up the last of their tickets. Come on, he said. No way, he said Sam. So Dave went along. It was late, and he was the only person on the ride. He chose a big white horse, frozen on its brass pole, its wild mouth tossing backwards. As the ride began, Dave looked at all of the empty horses in front of him and beside him, all the horses going up and down, up and down, the calliope playing, and the horses going up and down, and the carousel spinning around like a record play. It was like the gallop of his life. It was like his life, galloping all alone to a place that was out there somewhere, but kept fading into the distance the closer he got.

Around and around he went. And that was when he realized he had been wrong. He had been wrong at the hall of mirrors. Well, partly wrong. He was falling behind. got that part right. But Sam wasn't going to leave him behind. Sam wasn't going to leave him on the sidelines. His son was hurtling into the future, no doubt about it. But Dave wasn't being left behind. He was being dragged along with him. This was the future, this moment and all the others. It was

the way it had been ever since Sam was born. Sam was opening life to him. Sam had taught him more than he would ever teach his son. Around and around, up and down. Sam was leaning on the fence watching his father, and each time Dave passed him, Dave waved like a kid. And Sam shook his head, embarrassed Dave would come into sight and wave and then disappear again as the carousel carried him out of sight smiling as he rode on his silly wooden horse

smiling and waving and above all happy thank you that was the story we call Dave in the roller coaster actually come to think of it that's another way my dad's like Dave. He is also really terrified of roller coasters. We recorded that story in Mission British Columbia back in 2006. All right, that's it for today. But we'll be back here next week

with two more Dave and Marley stories. Dave stared at the greeting of that letter as the awful truth came slowly into focus. His daughter had put the letter that she had written to her friend Becky into the envelope she had addressed to her parents. It was seven pages long. I don't need to read this, thought, Dave. This letter was not meant for me. Please, Lord, give me the strength not to read this letter. Leave me not in a temptation. Stop me from reading any further. Deliver me from evil.

And his eyes flick down at the page in front of him and he thought he saw the word tongue. And he looked away quickly. said, why are you testing me like this? That's next week on the podcast. I hope you'll join us. Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe is part of the Apostrophe Podcast Network. The recording engineer is someone who has taught me

so much about parenting. Father of Samantha and Randy, an all-star parent of the year, Greg DeClude. Theme music is by Danny Michelle. and the show is produced by Louise Curtis, Greg DeClute, and me, Jess Milton. Let's meet again next week. Until then, so long for now. And don't forget about the beef jerky.