There was a point in time when Saturday morning meant cartoons. Well to be perfectly fair, that was never my Saturday. My Saturday mornings went like this, my mother would work till around threeish. So it would be my father and myself. We’d wake up and go get breakfast at this dumpy diner or Friendly’s. I’d always get a hot coco with whipped cream and french toast. We’d then go to my local arcade. The first game we’d play would be 5 he classic Daytona USA or Time Crisis 2. My father would pretty much exclusively play Daytona USA, he’d feel like such a hot shot beating all the other kids there and their dads. After playing games for a bit, on occasion we’d go to the go kart track. Since both my father and myself were and still are huge NASCAR fans, we’d take it far too seriously. I’d be his spotter, telling him where the people were coming up from behind us. Inevitability after the race a child would be crying saying that we bumped him, so we’d have to get out of there quickly. We’d go to McDonald’s then, I’d get a large fry and with a coke. My dad would get a Quarter Pounder with cheese, no pickle. Then we’d get home, watch the Busch race and then next Saturday do it all over again.
Maybe my Saturday’s would’ve been different if there were cartoons like this on TV instead.