BETWEEN THE LINES: Returning to an empty nest

In my single childless days of my 20s, the concept of an empty nest was quite foreign to me. It is said, “Out of sight, out of mind.” Last week, I drove my third and last child to Butler University in Indianapolis.

When Tyler was born 20 years ago, I was quite aware my retirement and his attending college would cross paths at the same time. That thought very quickly passed into the night at the time.

As the aging process takes its inevitable toll, people tend to become more reflective and begin to place a greater value on their time. Although our words might fall on deaf ears, older folks like myself often feel more inclined to impart pearls of wisdom with greater frequency. As our car headed out on our 1,200-mile trip, I had a captive audience for a couple of days to convey some of those thoughts.

My wife, who was just starting the new school year, was unable to travel with us, thus creating an opportunity for some male bonding. Although we faced a hectic schedule, I wanted to spend a little tourist time in Memphis, Tenn., which happened to be directly in our line of travel at about the mid-point of our journey.

Arriving late in the evening, I wanted Tyler to experience the atmosphere on Beale Street, the home of blues music. Then, I thought we would get up in the morning and visit Graceland, the legendary home of Elvis Presley. My son knew very little about the Tupelo, Miss., native. The rock ‘n’ roll legend combined his good looks and revolutionary stage presentation to capture the hearts of millions of youngsters, who were drawn by his ability to push the envelope while not offending his detractors. Even the reluctant Ed Sullivan was won over by the humble and mild-mannered heartthrob.

The Graceland tour turned out to be a pricey endeavor, but the King was worth every penny. His blazing career on stage and in the movies remains unparalleled. His home was different than I expected. It was no lavish mansion, but each room reflected his individual tastes. One room even featured a shag-carpet ceiling.

Although brilliantly managed by Colonel Parker, the King produced and chose his own music to perform. The tour brought back fond memories of "Hound Dog" and "Jailhouse Rock," but my favorites remain "Can’t Help Falling in Love With You" and "American Trilogy." Presley never forgot his country roots and remained to his death grateful for his success, which allowed him to take care of his parents — whom he loved so dearly.

Although my son was born 14 years after the legend’s death, Tyler left the grounds impressed with the man who died at 42. The wreaths left by his adoring fans to honor the anniversary of his death Aug. 16 gave clear evidence the King lives on.

I learned a few other things along the trail as well. I continue to be in awe of the GPS technology that flawlessly directed us on the highways and byways, never missing a beat. However, one obvious flaw of the technology is its inability to predict construction along the highways, which proved the shortest distance between two points does not always get one to the destination faster.

My parting advice to my son was never to be afraid to ask questions, to seek help from fellow students and professors — and yes, from his parents when needed. I reminded Tyler that he only had control over his effort, not the end result.

My flight home was much quicker, but not nearly as entertaining. My wife picked me up at the airport. As we drove home that afternoon, the reality began to sink in that our life would be entering a new phase. This stage would result in not running out of salsa (his favorite food) all of the time, but an eerie silence in his bedroom.

Laughlin is a Christian Libertarian. He is an economist, teacher, father, husband and most recently a grandfather. He has written a weekly column for The Tribune for 12 years. He and his wife Gina reside in Meadowlakes. To contact him, email ablaughlin@nctv.com. He is an independent columnist, not a staff member, and his views do not necessarily reflect those of The Tribune or its parent company.