I remember taking road trips with my mom and dad when I was little (don’t ask–there’s no way I’d mention how long ago that was). One year we drove the open road to Wyoming. Now, we didn’t have a station wagon, but for some reason a station wagon is in my memories. And this memory is so clear, that I’m sure it’s true. We must have borrowed it or rented it for the trip. I still have the images of my brother and I sitting in the back of the station wagon. And not the seat behind the driver’s bench seat either. I mean the most coveted seat of childhood: the…