Father's Day

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    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 very realistic depiction of a pirate ship crashing through ocean waves. Jolly roger skull and cross-bones flag and all. It probably took up a space of 2'x3'. About the size of a nice painting. On the wall next to my bed, the WHOLE wall, he drew a wig. Yeah, a wig. Like what you wear on your head. I didn't really get it then and still don't but it seems like my mom and her friends were always getting new wigs back then so maybe that was some sort of statement or just something that was on his mind. I don't know. The next piece is the one that's stuck with me over 40 years. At the time it was funny then it sort of morphed into some zen koan or something then back to being funny. These days it's back to the zen koan. Anyway, on the wall facing the foot of my bed, so I could lie in bed and see it, he started by drawing this elaborate picture frame. It was about 3'x4' and very intricate and detailed. The whole time my mom and uncle are standing there and making little comments wondering what he was going to draw in this frame. Once he was finished with the frame he took the charcoal and wrote in very clear lettering "shit." He wrote "shit." S-H-I-T. 
    Of course my mom freaked out but my uncle and myself thought that was funny as fuck. By the way, I could read before starting kindergarten (self-taught) and I was very familiar with the term "shit" so even though I was a little confused, I still thought it was funny...and very appropriate. 
    Fast forward about 16 years and we get another of these life lessons.
   I was about 21 years old and it was my last year or so of living at home. There were some growing pains happening, sneaking girls in while the folks were asleep, drinking in the house, just the general crap that usually gets young guys to finally move the fuck outta the folks house so you can do whatever the hell you want type shit. So, apparently I had acquired some speeding tickets that I was skipping the court dates to and the sherriff's department  sent one of their flunkies to deliver some registered mail or some shit about me missing these court dates. This one letter specifically, I missed and my dad signed for it. Later that day he was asking me about it and I just did my usual, "I don't know," which was sort of an understanding between us but then he started giving me some shit about skipping so many court dates. My brother, who was about 15-16 at the time asked him how he knew what was in the letter. My dad just said he opened it. He said it as if he was saying, 'how the hell you think?' That's when my brother said, 'You opened his mail?!' 'That's a federal offense!'
   My dad goes, 'Federal offense...Fuck you.'
   Goddamn, we cracked up. He wasn't laughing. It was stupid question and he answered it with the only real acceptable answer. And to this day, almost 30 years later, when my life's path is blocked by an obstacle disguised as a "federal offense," I stand face to face with this obstacle and exclaim, "federal offense....FUCK YOU!!"
    Lessons and inspiration come in all forms. Next Father's Day maybe I'll tell about when I had to explain to my dad why there was beer spilled all over the inside of his truck while I was in full "tripping-on-acid" mode.

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