When I began to think about the topic for this column, there was a television commercial in my mind. It’s the one where the kids go to the family vehicle to find balloons and notes from their dad telling them where to look for clues about a secret.

They discover that they are all packed for a road trip with mom. And with the push of a button they talk to Dad, hands free, of course, who sends them on their way. The ultra chic urban vehicle is equipped with all the bells and whistles to keep the little ones safe and entertained. Many of these rigs have video screens so that passengers can travel with Shrek as a constant companion.

This is one of those things that stirs up memories of long trips with seven people in the station wagon. We had no seat belts, no air conditioning, and certainly no leather seats or even “plush” velour. It was sticky vinyl all the way, Baby!

I wanted to complain that kids these days will never know where they are if they don’t look out the window. If a child’s attention is always focused on a video screen, won’t they miss the landmarks along the way?

Will they know the familiar turns and dips of a road? Will they get the giggles about the sign on I-90 in Montana proclaiming the local Rocky Mountain Oyster festival? And how will a child develop resilience and negotiating skills if they don’t have to call dibs on the best seat, compromise with a sibling whether the window will be open or closed, agree on a radio station, or test imaginary boundaries that must not be crossed?

Will they remember how family member in a bad mood can ruin a day of vacation, reminding them not to be that person? And how does the driver stay awake on the road if she doesn’t have to referee any squabbles, or even talk to anyone? Is everyone in their own world when they travel, or is it a shared experience, good or bad?

I wanted to complain about these vehicles that put the focus of passengers on a video screen rather than the wonders out the window. But I have to admire the safety of the family compared to the “good old days.” And I’ll bet my mom and dad would have loved a Shrek interlude along the way.

As long as a family is together there will be memories made. But it’s a rite of passage when a child becomes an adult to hear the call of the open road, and take off with nothing but a sandwich and a map. Or maybe I should say a debit card and a GPS.

Patty Luzzi has lived on the Eastside for 32 years. Readers can contact her at pattyluzzi@yahoo.com.