The Yellow Banana Van

I saw this advertisement for the movie "Little Miss Sunshine" and childhood memories immediately flooded my mind. Why you ask? Because the Volkswagon Van in the movie was basically what I grew up in.

I remember this van so well. It was not what I call weatherproof. In the summertime, the brown vinyl melted to your skin; in the winter, the seats felt like blocks of ice. I was always afraid to sit down in that car.



Because there are six children in my family, money was tight growing up. Note all six of us in what is one of my favorite family photos. [I am the one in the very front with Summer's arms around my neck. Sara is the beached whale my dad is holding] So my oldest sister Cami never had a car in high school. Needless to say, my parents would drop her off at school -- in the yellow Volkswagon bus. This car might have been cool in the 1970s, or whenever they were made, but in the 1980s, this car did not raise Cami's "cool" factor. She was always embarrassed about getting out of the van in front of everyone at school. It didn't help that it was so easy for this van to stand out, what with its screaming yellow shade. Eventually, Cami's friends at school nick-named the bus "The Yellow Banana Van."

Mostly I remember the van because I encountered my first near death experience in it. I never wore seatbelts as a child because the strap choked me and cut off my air supply, the metal clip thing always burned my fingers so I avoided touching it, and it wasn't a law then. Well, I remember riding in the front seat of the Volkswagon with my dad one sunny day in Oklahoma. Naturally, I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. I remember we came to a stop light and for some reason, I either needed to open the door to re-shut it better, or I just wanted to see if the door would open if it was in its locked state. Either way, I slipped my little fingers underneath the handle and opened it. Just as I opened the door, the light turned green and my dad accelerated. While my dad was turning left, I was swinging out of the van on the right. Next thing I know, I'm outside of the car, holding on as tight as I can to the handle, feet dragging on the concrete in the middle of an intersection, and knowing this was not a good situation to be in. I wasn't yelling or crying; I was in complete shock for a brief moment. I didn't know how I was going to get back inside the van. All of a sudden, I felt my dad's arm. Somehow he reached over while he was still driving, grabbed my body and returned it safely to the hot seat inside. I remember so clearly feeling the strength of my dad. Sure I was light, and in intense moments your strength is heightened, but at that moment, I sensed the strength and protection of a father. I will always remember my rendezvous with death in the Yellow Banana Van.

Huh. I wonder what the people behind us thought? That would be an interesting sight for someone to see.