To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.
Welcome everyone to Drivel Over Coffee, the blog; musings, memories and whatnot infused with the earthy aroma of French Roast Coffee with a dose of rant mixed in on occasion. My look upon life as seen through dog-licked glasses.
Blessed wishes to all of you dads out there. I hope your day was the greatest ever and that you had the occasion to spend some time with your kids. It is always a special moment for sure. Daughters Jenny, the elder, and Debby, the younger elder took me out for lunch. It was a special time for sure. One that I enjoyed for sure. They presented me with a ticket to the Beach Boys & Temptations Concert. They also gave one to my current wife for Mother’s Day so we could go together. Daughter JSue, the Henderson Elder, put together a memory book for me. What a treasure. Three pretty darn good kids I think.
I recall as an eight-year old, I decided to give my dad a super Father’s Day gift. He had been working really hard all morning on our truck. He was going to be using it the next day to help a neighbor who had been sick but it had a flat tire. Just before lunch he began to take it off so he could get it fixed. Oh those lug nuts had not been off of there in a while. They were really stuck. I hurried through lunch, excused myself and headed outside intent on getting that truck tire off for my dad while he rested after lunch. As an eight-year old, I was fairly scrawny. There was little or no chance of me getting those lug nuts loose but I tried anyway. I put the wrench on one and with all my might tried to turn. With the last ounce of effort, I heard a “crack” and the wrench fell to the ground. I stood there looking at the glistening shiny steel of the broken stud. On the ground was the lug nut and the rest of the stud. So much for helping with his Father’s Day. He did feel special though because I never tried that again.
Musings – A small boy was at the zoo with his father. They were looking at the tigers, and his father was telling him how ferocious they were. “Daddy, if the tigers got out and ate you up…” “Yes, son?” the father asked, ready to console him. “…Which bus would I take home?”
“Dad, are bugs good to eat?” asked Jenny. “Let’s not talk about such things at the dinner table, Jen,” I replied. After dinner I inquired, “Now, Jen, what did you want to ask me?” “Oh, nothing,” Jenny said. “There was a bug in your soup, but now it’s gone.”
The father of five children had won a toy at a raffle. He called his kids together to ask which one should have the present. “Who is the most obedient?” he asked. “Who never talks back to mother? And “Who does everything mother says?” Five small voices replied in unison. “Okay daddy! You get the toy.”
My current wife and her girlfriend have been friends for decades. Over the years they have shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to playing cards a few times a week. One day when playing cards, I overheard my current wife say, “Now don’t get mad at me. I know we’ve been friends a long time, but I just can’t think of your name. I’ve thought and thought, but I can’t remember it. Please tell me what your name is.” Her girlfriend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and glared. Finally, she said, “How soon do you need to know?”
Mini Rant – I have been working at this blog all day. Trying to get it wrapped up for distribution. Will my laptop and WiFi cooperate? NO!!!!! This is the slowest and most aggravating piece of shite I have ever seen. I have tried everything I can think of to get it to run normally but to no avail.
Memories – Back in the day my grandfather bought my first car for me. I was around 14 I believe. It was a 1952 Chevy 2 door sedan. He paid $50.00 for it. Naturally, I was not permitted to drive it but I certainly was able to adore, decorate, fix-up and polish the junky jalopy. It was not even close to being cherry but it was mine. Following grandpa’s lead, I spray painted the dashboard. I used white not gold or silver. I hung a string of white dangling puff balls across the back window. I reinforced the floor board under the driver’s feet. There was a rusted out hole there. It wasn’t bad except on gravel roads. Dust funneled up through that hole like a geyser. Naturally, a car of that age didn’t have turn signals or seat belts. Never even heard of them actually. Do you remember what the signals were for turns?
I somehow happened upon a company called JC Whitney purveyor of everything automotive. I believe it was from an enclosure in the Fingerhut catalog my folks received. For those who don’t know, Fingerhut sold all sorts of household related products by mail order. My folks loved this company. For my 14th birthday they gave me a portable Hi-Fi stereophonic record player purchased from Fingerhut. I’m sure you know the ones. It was all plastic. The turntable was hinged so it could swing down into playing mode. The speakers were fastened under the handle. Each could be extended about 3 feet each way. They were about 6 inches square. The speakers gave it the “stereophonic” sound.
I filled out the reply card, requested and received my JC Whitney catalog. It was about ½ inch thick. I poured over every page dozens of times. My first purchase was a turn signal kit. This put me light years ahead of my friends. It was so cool. The sending unit clamped on the steering column with a hose clamp. The wires were spliced into the front and rear lights. Worked great except when the hose clamp would not clamp and the sending unit dangled down by your feet – usually at an inopportune time. At 14 and 15 years of age, my driving options limited. I was confined to the farm yard and in the fields. Of course, with crops planted the fields were not much of a choice so I spent hour upon hour driving basically in a circle around the farm yard. How cool was that? Other times, I would simply sit in it day dreaming about the day it would hit the road.
Do you remember the clear plastic seat covers people would put in their cars? No, well my folks did. I can still see the swatches that Fingerhut sent to them for these seat covers. Oh, they bought them and installed them. They were nasty. In the hot Iowa summers, they would burn your skin in 15 seconds. In the winter, they were crispy and cold. Eventually they would crack and split. You were not able to slide across them because they were sticky. As I recall they even included clear plastic covers for your sun visors. As unique as this company was then, it still exists. They are still selling set covers. For that matter, JC Whitney is still in business it seems. They are still selling the very same “Thrush” muffler that I bought way back. It had the coolest sound. Should I install that on my Audi? I think both are capitalizing on the internet sales market now. Those were/are the days.
Whatnots– The Vocabulary of a Father
Dumbwaiter: One who asks if the children would care to order a dessert.
Feedback: The inevitable result when the baby doesn’t appreciate the strained carrots.Full Name: What you call your child when you’re angry with him.
Grandparents: The people who think your children are wonderful even though they’re sure you’re not raising them right.
Independent: How we want our children to be for as long as they do everything we say.
Puddle: A small body of water that draws other small bodies wearing dry shoes into.
Show Off: A child who is more talented than yours.
Whodunit: None of the children who live in your house.
Bottle-feeding: An opportunity for Daddy to get up at 2 am.
The Stages Of Success
At age 4 success is…not peeing in your pants.
At age 12 success is…having friends.
At age 16 success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 20 success is…having sex.
At age 35 success is…having money.
At age 50 success is…having money.
At age 60 success is…having sex.
At age 70 success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 75 success is…having friends.
At age 80 success is…not peeing in your pants
Remember your Vietnam Veterans – All gave some, some gave all!! June is PTSD Awareness Month. If I can make at least one-person smile, or laugh till they leak, then my day was not wasted. Until we meet again -TA!