Father's Day
It's Father's Day weekend again and while my dad has been dead over 25 years now, there's still quite a bit of residue left over from some of his "lessons." One of my earliest memories of even life in general was of my dad. When I was about five years old, just before starting kindergarten, my dad and uncle (his brother) were hanging around the house on a Saturday afternoon drinking some beers and just bullshitting in general. My dad didn't really drink much except socially with his friends from time to time. My uncle, on the other hand, did drink much. At some point during the day my dad grabbed a piece of charcoal out of the grill outside and decided to throw up some artwork on the walls in my bedroom. While there were very few times I actually saw him do any sort of drawing or art, apparently he had a little talent. This was one of the few times I witnessed this. He took the charcoal and on the wall behind the head of my bed he drew a