Its Current Value is Obvious

Posted on February 17, 2015 Updated on February 17, 2015

Traditions are highly over-rated!

That was my take. It had always been my take, and I thought it would always be my take on the subject. I have never been a blind keeper of traditions. It has never mattered what the traditions were, but rather their current value.

Growing up I kept my opinions to myself. I come from very outspoken and opinionated family stock. This included my entire extended family as well. I learned early on that discussing politics, religion, or sport teams was guaranteed a ringside seat for a heated discussion. However, as a child, who wanted to talk about that boring stuff anyway. I had much more relevant things to do.

What I did learn from all that “stuff” was the value of asking,”Why?”  Why was this opinion, or that political position important to the person? Were the people holding on to them blindly for some unknown reason? What was actually behind what they stood for, or opined about so loudly to all within earshot? I was never going to ask those questions, but it was here that I began to form my position on tradition for tradition’s sake.  Survey said…”No thank you!”

Enter the big blue tent.

My dad has a goodly amount of fine qualities. One of my favorites is his intense sense of being thorough about things. He never buys anything on impulse or a whim. He researches everything. He always takes his time, and will sleep at least one night on any purchase. It’s who he is as a person. It’s what he does, and I love him for it. I am sure the big blue tent was no exception.

This was a significant investment for a family in the 1960’s. It is 20 ft long and 9 ft wide. It can be divided into 3 separate rooms and is tall enough in the center for even the tallest of people to stand easily. Made of sturdy bright blue canvas this tent was made to last for a long time.

Allow me a moment to vent here, please. You see, when our family took its annual vacation it was for two full weeks of camping at a time. The six of us rolled out of the driveway hitting the road at 3:00 am and we drove straight to the campground some 4-8 hours away. The trip home was the exact reverse except we started for home later in the morning or afternoon.

Here is where the venting starts. Once we arrived at home we unpacked and pitched the tent on our front lawn. After two full weeks of exhausted fun we now had the privilege of pitching the tent, then sweeping the tent out, and finally vacuuming the floor, walls and ceiling inside and out. Are you kidding me! Who does that? This tradition will die with my father and will not be advanced in my generation. That was a solemn promise I made to myself.

As is normal with families, we all grew up and the folks gave us their camping gear. Marm and I inherited the big blue tent among other things. It was great to have the tent since our family was growing and wouldn’t stop until there were seven of us. This tent was awesome! I had to admit, as much as I hated to, Dad was right in how he had taken care of it. It was in immaculate condition.

True to form though, I never repeated his cleaning process once we were home. We swept it out as well as we could before we broke it down at the campsite. Once we arrived home it went straight on the shelf with the rest of the camping gear. It never saw the light of day until it was pitched at the next campsite on the next family adventure.

This was how it was the entire time our kids were growing up. We did treat the tent well, after all, it was getting up in years and was a great tent for our family. We couldn’t replace it with one of equal quality, and didn’t need to. It was a great heirloom. But, as is with all families, our kids grew up too, and we gave them most of our camping gear. Marm and I had, years before, discovered a thing called a yurt. Needless to say tents for us were now passe’. We are seasoned yurt people now, and love it.

Annie and Tristan now claim the rights of ownership in regard to the big blue tent. I don’t know if my parents ever in their wildest dreams imagined that this tent would be a binding factor over three generations of our family. None-the-less, it is just that.

The last time we and all of our kids and their families were camping together the big blue tent was there in all its un-camouflaged glory. Bright blue is bright blue. Its presence is strikingly obvious no matter where it’s pitched. While we were camping we were discussing what we could get my dad for his birthday. Someone came up with the idea to have a picture taken with all of us standing in front of the big blue tent. We all thought it was a great idea and did so.

At his birthday party we presented the picture to my dad as I told the story about traditions and their value. We wanted him to know that despite my intense dislike at his thorough care of the tent in the early years, this Big Blue Tent was now a treasured possession of our entire family. Every time we see it pitched we are reminded of the man we all love. We are reminded of his quality of care and his thoroughness. We are reminded of him, and that’s a really good thing.

This is not a tradition for tradition’s sake. Nope.  This is a tradition worth keeping since its current value is obvious.