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by Richard Timothy | Jul 23, 2010 | Mini-Smirk, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
It’s funny how our brains cycle through things. I have a list to subjects that I will be writing about at some point… probably, most of them definitely, with a few maybes. The thing is as a result of the few pieces I did on little people my brain has started pulling up more little people storied that I have in the story database in my mind. Of all these stories coming to mind, today I find myself sharing another story of about a friend’s kid, which always puts a smile on my face. And again, out of respect for their privacy, I’ll be changing a few names.
This little story took place about 8 years ago, in Logan Utah, when both my friend Hanson and I were going to school at Utah State University. Hanson and I have been friends for a long time, so it was nice when we eventually both ended up at the same university. By this point in his life, Hanson had familyified himself, err… well he has started a family I mean. He was already married and had two adorable olive skinned girls by this point in his life. Hanson’s wife is full blooded Argentinean and was kind enough to pass along her pigmently enriched flesh tones over to her children. Hanson has always been grateful for this, due to his personal experiences being pigmently challenged and spending a lifetime wearing hats or bathing in SPF 45 before going outside to play.
So one evening, while we went out enjoying some sushi at the only sushi restaurant in town, he relayed this little story to me about his oldest daughter Elise, who was four or five at the time. Elise had been playing over at a friend’s house earlier that week. As is often the case with little people playing outside for an afternoon, there is a placed between lunch and dinner that kids find themselves famished and waiting until dinner is usually a suggestion met by much hostility, a little whining, stomping, flailing about, screaming, and more often than not, tears.
When Elise’s friend, Janet, told her mom that she was hungry her mother took this as a perfect opportunity to avoid fighting with her daughter and told her she would fix something for her and Elise. Fish sticks were the first thing that popped into her mind, because she knew Janet would eat them. Janet’s mom then asked Elise if she would like some fish sticks.
“No.” said Elise. Then after thinking for a moment added, “Brown people don’t like fish.”
Janet’s mom was a little unprepared for this and asked, “What do you mean Elise?”
“Well, my dad’s white and he likes fish, and my mom’s brown and she doesn’t like fish, and I’m brown and I don’t like fish, and my little sister Anna is brown, and she doesn’t like fish either. So brown people don’t like fish.”
“Ok,” Laughed Janet’s mom, “I’ll fix you something else.”
“Thank you.”
Janet’s mom then walked into the house, over to the phone, and called Elise’s mom to share Elise’s logic as to why brown people don’t like fish.
Hanson and I had a good laugh about that one. We marveled at Elise’s process of logic based on her limited access to information. Even thought it was an extremely inaccurate statement, based on her current knowledge base about fish and brown people and her deduction based on that, she was 100% correct. Hence the logic of a five year old, always exercising their right and determination to be right, even if they are wrong, in a way, they are still right. And in a way, even as adults, I think we all have moments like that from time to time. Thinking we’re right, even when we’re wrong, but based on what we think we know, we’re still right… No matter how much we change, sometimes we’re all still the same.
What are some of your child logic experiences?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: cursing kid, fish sticks, and no fish.
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by Richard Timothy | Jul 11, 2010 | Mini-Smirk, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
While I was sitting at my desk yesterday, writing up the A-Team theme song experience my phone rang. This in and of itself is not all that common of an experience for me. I mean subtracting the calls I get from Angela I get maybe ten to fifteen calls a week. So when I check the caller ID I was surprised to see that it was my oldest brother Dave was giving me a ring. The surprise comes not from anything negative; it’s just a rather rare event in comparison. I believe it was the second call this year from him. So with my interest already peaked, I answered the phone.
All small talk aside, he was very direct and up front about the reason for his call… there was a sale on some MST3K boxed sets. Apparently there is a site called woot.com that does a daily sale, and it is only a 24-hour sale. Meaning if you want what is being offered you have to buy it that day because you will not be getting that price again. He noticed that Saturday’s sale was for a three pack MST3K DVD 4-pack collection, which is rather confusing when you write it out. It means that there were three different MST3K collections (Volume 16, 17, and 18) and each volume has four different movies in it. At first I wasn’t sure, but eventually figured, “What the hell.” I only needed one of them, but it was a really good sale and now I have two birthday gifts that I don’t need to shop for when the birthdays arrive.
After he let me know about the sale, then began catch up time. Surprisingly, he’s moving to Arizona in the next few weeks! Who knew? He’s only been in Jackson for 16 years. It was, sadly, a much shorter conversation that I would have liked. While we talked, Angela and I got ready and headed to go see the rest of the family for family reunion that we had been planning for the past few weeks. I do hope that the move and new job will give him a little more free time, so that he’s easier to get a hold of. In the past, getting a hold of Dave was a lot like trying to drink a Shush Puppie without getting brain freeze.
Once we finished talking and hung up I started thinking and the whole call, and started laughing to myself because of all the things that are going on in Dave’s life that I didn’t know about and that I feel would be good reasons to give me a call, it was a sale on Mystery Science Theater 3000 DVDs that got him to not only think of me, but that got him to take action and actually give me a call. Even now it gets me chuckling a little bit.
I started thinking about some of my identifiers for my family and some of my oldest (longest) friendships. Things that will always remind me them no matter where I am and what I might be doing. These are things like:
Butterflies = my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh, Star Trek = Anson, The Razors Edge by W. Somerset Maugham (or the films) = Dave, Good Omens = Kyle, The Music Man = Dad, Police Academy film (the first one) = Steph, ABBA = Mom, Bugs Bunny = Mike, and wiener dogs or Mickey Mouse = Fee.
Out of all the things out there in the world I have to admit that having my family and friends think of me when MST3K is seen or mentioned is just pretty damn cool.
What are some of your reminders for friends and family?
Image Source: Google Images, key words: checking cell phone, slush puppie, and MST3K.
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by Richard Timothy | Jul 10, 2010 | Mini-Smirk, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
So last night I got together with some friends to go see the film, The A-Team at a bar/movie theater called Brewvies. It is a brilliant concept where you can get food and drinks and then take them into the movie with you to enjoy while you watch the film. It’s really nice in the sense that you don’t need to smuggle any liquor in to the theater because you can just by it there.
Once we had our pitchers of beer (for those drinking) and out two orders of nachos, we headed into the theater. Traditionally films start about 15 to 20 minutes late, and last night was no exception. The previews rolled by and the movie began. As the film start you are slowly introduced to some of the main characters through a series of action scenes. As mayhem ensues, and a climactic moment is reached, where the good guys rush in to save one of their own, the sound completely cuts in the theater.
Thus begins a barrage of yelling, popcorn throwing, and all around grumbling. Then one solitary person out of the audience, keeping in spirit to what made the old television show so great, yells out, “Bah Bahbah Bah, Buh bah baa…”
And that was all it took, the entire audience took his lead and all of us start belting out The A-Team theme song. As the scene continued to move forward without any sound, we continued sing out that unforgettable little theme song that made the show that much better and memorable. Once the sound came back on and we stopped singing, it didn’t matter what came next, I was going to enjoy this film whether it deserved it or not. I rarely get the opportunity to spontaneously break into song with an audience full of strangers, and let me just say that for the record… it is sooooo much better that I ever imagined possible!
I was in an audience of strangers that all had at least one thing in common, a youth filled love for a bad 80s television series. If film sucked, I really didn’t notice that much. I mean I know it wasn’t a good film, but for those two hours I just didn’t care. I was amongst my A-Team friends, and I for one, thanks to everyone there enjoying the film with me, was thoroughly entertained.
Thanks A-Team theme song, for making us laugh at the A-Team… again.
Image Source:
Google Images, key word: A-Team
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by Richard Timothy | Jun 30, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Recently my sweetie-baby-cutie-pie-wifey-pooh had her birthday, and as birthday’s go this one went rather well. The celebration of which managed to expand over a three day period, which is almost the amount of time it takes to watch the Lord of the Rings Extended Version Trilogy back to back… almost being the distinguishing word there.
So what made this birthday so grand and drawn out? There were a couple of elements added to this holiday. The first and main reason, it was Angela’s birthday and in truth I could just stop there. When the one you love becomes a year older what better cause for celebrating for three days in a row. As far as age goes, I am going to break all southern etiquette rules… or is it female etiquette rules? I am going to break all southern female etiquette rules and let you all know that it the fourth anniversary of Angela’s 29th birthday. And that means only one thing! Butterflies! I’m pretty sure that the symbol of the fourth birthday anniversary is the butterfly. At least that’s the theme I went with. Of course having Angela overly smitten with most things butterfly caused this choice to work out pretty well.
Saturday evening began the birthday festivities in a tri-celebration. Two additional friends were also in the season of their birthday so in the spirit of giving I made a vat of fruity alcoholic happiness. One of the birthday people had brought two questionable bottles of wine. The type of wines that had exceeded its stay in its home of fermentation and over the years had become a bit withered and grumpy, and constantly yelling at all the young wines to stay out of its rack. One was a white zinfandel and the other was a seven year old bottle of Chianti. After trying each it was clear that both had gone over to the dark side. I used my mixing mastery in to save these poor decrepit wines from being undrinkable, and turned them into the base for my beverage dispenser of fruity birthday toasting.
We did end up putting a skull and crossbones sticky note on the drink dispenser though. Apparently if you fill something with fresh fruit, ice, and make the liquid in it a happy and festive summer color, little kids tend to think that it was made specifically for them. I learned this as I was finishing up the drink and a line of little people formed asking if they could have some. There was a chorus of adults loudly denying this request. “That drink is not for you.” echoed throughout the party and a pitcher of lemonade was quickly produced and poured into the little one’s cups.
As the party came to a close and birthday people began to head home, we had the present opening portion of the evening. To Laurie, our gracious party host, and whose husband Dwight and friends serenaded our birthday honorees with live music, we gave her a cage for naughty candles that refuse to play nice with others. At least that’s what it reminded me of. It was a round wire cage with a twisty bottom that you could remove and place a candle on, and then twist back into place so that the candle was in the cage. It also had a long wire handle so you could hang it on a ceiling hook in a corner of the house when you decide to put the candle in time-out.
Then there was Mike, who received the collection dollar items for the sole purpose of filling a lovely leather travel toiletry bag that had a water proof lining for Mike to take with him on all his many travels… to meet up with his wife who travels all over the world for work… which means she now has a very nice travel bag to take with her when she travels and that will always house one extra tooth brush for Mike for those occasions when he gets to meet her somewhere in France, Germany, Michigan, wherever really.
I did manage to get Mike a new t-shirt though, which is inherently him. Some people collect spoons, others collect spices, which is a lot more people than you might think. Think I’m kidding? Go to your kitchen and look in your spice drawer, you just might be surprised at how many spices you have in there that have never been opened. If you have more than five, then you are an unknowing spice collector. Welcome to the club.
As for Mike, he collects vintage looking food t-shirts. Like his red shirt with a big McDonald’s M on it, or his brown t-shirt with the A&W logo on it. He loves them. It’s a sort of tie to his youth when junk food tasted better, was cheaper, and was probably better for you than it is today.
For you slightly out of your twenties folk, do you remember the Tootsie Pops commercial with the owl and the little kid asking how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop? The owl takes the pop licks it three times and then bites the pop off the stick, and hands the stick back to the kid telling him, “three.” Well it just so happens that I found a t-shirt that had Mr. Owl sitting on a branch with the word POPS in the back ground, and a caption under the owl that read, “How many licks?” When Mike unrolled the t-shirt and saw what it was… it was like looking into the eyes of a six year old who had just eaten his first Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. It was the look of pure joy.
For Angela, I gave her the one thing she always seems to need more of, time… sort of. It was a watch, actually two, but I gave her the second one on her actual birthday instead of at the party. I guess you could say that I gave her time pieces symbolizing how time flies, but that just means that the watches I gave her had butterflies on them. Yes, accessories with butterflies on them truly is the one thing she currently seems to need more of.
Getting her two watches started when we were in the Fossil store a few weeks back, which happens to be the same store where I got my sun dial. She saw two different watches that had butterflies on them and fell in love. She self debated for a good twenty minutes over which one she liked the most. Once she reluctantly decided I told her we’d come back as soon as pay day arrived. Then the next day I went and got both of them for her. My birthday message to her mimicked a message that she has been sharing with others for a while now. To paraphrase the message… you don’t have to settle in life, you can be happy in personal and business relationships, healthy, wealthy and enlightened. Life is not about living in just one of those areas, while the rest suffer. Life is about all of them and living in a way where you have a balanced and whole life. In short, you deserve it all, and Angela deserved all of the butterfly watches she wanted.
Day two of the celebration consisted of sleeping in, and moving slowly once we got up as a result of moderate alcohol consumption and an assault of vindictive pollen beating my allergies into a state of sneeze filled exhaustion. One we hit the post shower level of begin awake we went over to Laurie and Dwight’s and helped clean up the party mess. Once that was done, we hit the last day of the Utah Arts Festival. We spent five hours wanders around looking at booth after booth of various forms of art, such as painting, jewelry, ceramics, glass work, pencil drawing, sculptures, stained glass, and so on. All the while we were being followed around and tempted by the savory fragrance of cinnamon roasted almonds… that mouth watering tempter of sweet crunchy goodness. We did manage to resist its temptation though.
There were five different stages at the Arts Fest and through our walkabout we did see two spoken word performances, a collage of different dance performances, an obnoxious pigmently challenged rapper, an Ani DiFranco sounding angry anti-folk singer, and a fairly groovy soul/funk band. Our evening ended with us going home around 9:30 as a result of me falling asleep on the grass while Angela was listening to the music. I really tried, but I was on a losing battle against the summer horror that is allergies.
Day three, which was the official date of the celebration, consisted in me taking off work and spending the day with my sweetie. Again, sleeping in was our first accomplishment for the day. By 1PM we were out of the house and heading downtown to eat at Angela’s favorite Mexican restaurant. It was so good, but so… much… food… We didn’t eat anything else the rest of the day/night. The margaritas were strong and left Angela enjoying a birthday buzz as we went shopping the rest of the afternoon. Before lunch I did give her the second watch, and a card/sketchbook. Meaning I gave her a sketchbook where I sketched something on the first page and wrote an inscription along with it so it could serve as a birthday card. She cried when she read it, but in a good way.
I’m not sure why it’s become common practice to always add that clarifier when you mention you made someone cry. I mean whose going to advertise that they were a jerk and made someone cry? Ok that is who beside Don Rickles, or a politician publicly apologizing for making their wife cry because they are a liar and cheater? Oddly though, every time I hear someone mention they did something to make their significant other cry, they always clarify it with, “In a good way?” It’s always quickly added as well, as if there is some very large man close by holding a cricket bat ready to smack you in the kneecap while yelling, “You don’t make women cry!” Still, we feel compelled to clarify every time that phrase is uttered.
All things said and done, it was a wonderful three day celebration for my beautiful wife’s fourth anniversary of her 29th birthday. I love you honey! Next year I hope the celebration lasts a whole week… you deserve it!
Any thoughts about today’s Smirk?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: Happy Birthday Angela, fruit punch, hanging candle holder, tootsie pops owl, fossil butterfly watch, Utah arts festival, and red iguana Utah.
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by Richard Timothy | Jun 22, 2010 | Holiday Banter, I Do Suggest, I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Reviewed and Recommended
This year for the Summer Solstice I wanted to get something that paid homage to the solstice, but also utilizing the one thing that the solstice has plenty of… sunlight. So I bought myself the perfect solstice gift, a watch. And not just any watch, oh no, I bought a watch that would enable me to take advantage of the extended sunlight of the day. I did go a bit old school on the style of the watch though, but I felt it really captured essence of the whole solstice paradigm. I bought a sundial wrist watch. Really. It has no hidden watch on the inside or anything like that. It’s just a legitimate, possibly accurate time piece that can only be used during the day… make that a clear sunny day.
I’ve been told that it really will tell time, but I have to be facing true north and the watch must be resting on a level surface. Now had the watch come with a compass and leveler that would have definitely added to the practical applications of the watch. So far it’s only proved to be good for the following:
- 29 laughs
- 18 “Why?”
- 1 “Dude, can I copy you?”
- 2 “I’m not surprised?”
- 6 raised eye brows
- 3 “Of course you did!”
- 5 “So what time is it?”
- And about 59 “Does it really work?” (Which covers everyone I’ve shown it to.)
And that is all within less than one 24 hour period. Not bad results for such a short amount of time.
Solstice was celebrated in the way that all solstices should be celebrated, with friends, a fire pit, some really yummy no bake cookies, very tasty wine, and a release and proclamation ceremony. Meaning you write down the things you want to let go of and give thanks for the purpose they served in your life and set them on fire… releasing them. Then you have another piece of paper that you fill with your goals and intentions for the next year. Then you either save them to read as a daily reminder, or you burn them too, depending on the way you want your solstice ceremony to go. It was a little like a New Year’s resolutions party, but much, much warmer.
One thing I noticed throughout the evening, the homage to fire that people seem compelled to give. Wood kept being stacked on the fire pit, keeping the flames dancing as the sun went down. Soon we had people with sticks burning at both ends, being twirled and tossed into the air. Sharing some fire dancing techniques learned at a class they took a few years back. Apparently fire dancing is a lot like riding a bike. Only when you start again, it’s a very slow bike moving forward with very careful and precise pedal pushing.
Soon others were playing with the fire stick, practicing slowly, spinning it around them or waving it in the air as if it were a sparkler on steroids. It reminded me of the neighbor’s fence I caught on fire when I was a boy, secretly learning about the power and limits of a flame, a Bic lighter, and a can of hair spray. I only charred about a two foot by three foot section of fence, and lied about it until just last year when we were having dinner at my parents house and I told them that I was actually the one who did that. Can you believe they refused to give me any ice cream for dessert as punishment? Talk about holding a grudge.
The other thing I noticed about the party was the kids. Yes, it was one of those little people friendly parties. The interesting thing is that all of the kids, the ones 4 years old to 19 years old were all hanging out together and away from the adults. I’m not complaining mind you. It seemed to work out well for everyone, and it was cute to see that all the kids banded together, creating a “no old people” club while all the people with, well, jobs and wine were left alone to act like “old people.” Ah, how times have changed… a change that I actually feel quite good about. The older little people can watch the younger little people, and the older people can chat and drink wine. I’d say this is the first step into creating a perfect world.
A Merry Summer Solstice to you all… How was your solstice?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: sundial watch, summer solstice, fire dancing, and friend drinking wine.
by Richard Timothy | Jun 21, 2010 | Gratefully Grateful, I Think There's a Point, Life Characters, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Father’s Day 2010, began as any other Sunday so far this summer. It consisted of me sleeping in. Now I normally don’t pay much attention to storybooks that try to teach the readers lessons via parable, but I really do think there is something to be said about that whole day of rest thing. I’d go so far as to add that if we were to split up that whole day of rest concept and do a few hours of rest each afternoon from two to four, sometimes five, then the world would be a much better place in general.
I was looking forward to today. It was going to be filled with visiting friends and family for the purpose of good conversation and grand food consumption. When noon arrived Angela and I were both ready to go to our friends house for brunch. There was however, one hiccup in this plan. When Angela ran downstairs into our living room, the floor was saturated with a thin layer of splash just waiting to attack an unsuspecting dry foot or two. Our basement had flooded… again.
The first time was a result of our neighbors turning on the outdoor faucet next to our fence, and leaving it running for a day or so… in January! We did catch that flood much earlier, but it was around midnight and it took a lot longer to get any assistance from any professionals. I had managed to spend 3 hours out in the freezing cold bailing water out of our stairwell and my jeans were frozen and had about a half inch of ice caked around them from my knees to my feet. Needless to say, it was a very long and very, very cold night. When all things were said and done, at least we got the basement re-carpeted with a much lovelier color. There was some concern that I may have accrued a mild case of hypothermia, but a two hour long hot shower and about two days in bed pretty much moved that concern into just a passing thought.
This time it was a much warmer disaster. I mean the flooding was a little worse, but nowhere near as horrible an experience as last time. Plus, this time Angela knew someone that has a business that cleans up homes from these very types of mishaps. They were over and working on the cleanup in less than an hour. Plus, bailing water out of the stairwell was sooooo much warmer this time. Just as exhausting, but completely hypothermia free. I even got to work on my tan a little.
I do feel a little responsible for this flood though, for two reasons. First, I’ve been wanting to begin working out a bit more. Nothing insane like triathlon training, but something light and fluffy, kind of like riding my bike to the local pet story to pet some baby rabbits and then a bike ride back home. You know, just a little something extra that gets the heart pumping consistently for about 20 minutes every to every other day. The thing is, I never really specified to the universe how I wanted that to look. I really only shared that I had that intention. Let’s just say that bailing water out of a stairwell for an hour and then moving all the furniture out of the basement and up a flight of stairs is an amazing workout. My heart was power pumping for well over an hour today because of the action that this whole fiasco got me to do. Lesson: Try to be as specific as possible when setting your personal exercising intentions.
Reason two… so here’s what happened. Late last night I turned on the water to our sprinkler system for the first time this year. We have a nozzle in the back yard that I leave open when I turn off the water so that the water can drain out of that pipes so they will not freeze and break during the winter. I sort of, completely, forgot that that nozzle was still open. The result, water poured out of the nozzle all night, poring over our yard, across our cement patio and water falling down the steps into our stairwell and seeping in through the back door thus flooding the basement. Lesson 2: When you turn on your water for the season, always, and I mean ALWAYS check every nozzle in your yard to make sure everything is closed tightly before going to bed… ALWAYS!!!
A flowed basement does make for a very long afternoon, but things are now cleaned up and fans are blowing to dry out the carpet. Once it’s all dry, all we’ll need is some new padding installed and we can get our basement back to normal. See, I still have the workout of moving all of the furniture back downstairs to look forward to as well.
On another plus note, at least of the furniture in the basement has been thoroughly dusted for the first time in about four months. You wouldn’t think dusty book shelves would be something you’d notice when packing up boxes and hauling everything in your living room upstairs in a hurry, but they were pretty noticeably. I got them cleaned up once the cleaning crew arrived and started sucking all of the water out of the basement.
Once everything was situated, and the cleaners had left with the fans running there was nothing left for use to do at the house, so plans returned to normal and we headed to my parents house to have Father’s Day dinner with the family, which brings me to the fatherly portion of today’s Father’s Day theme. When talking about my dad there are a few things that do come to mind. First are his three favorite jokes, which are:
Q: What is the difference between a duck?
A: One of its feet are both the same.
Q: Why does a mouse when it spins?
A: Because the higher up the more.
Q: What’s the different between a banana?
A: It’s about this color (while holding up your index fingers about 10 inches apart).
When he would ask people if they wanted to hear a joke the actual joke was the person listening to him tell the joke. It was the reaction of the listener that was the joke, the punch line so to speak. The reaction to the joke the first time someone would hear it always got him laughing… and I’m sure it still does. He tells those joke every chance he gets.
A few other items that help explain the character that is my father are, he has all of his thumbs and fingers. Sure that may seem a bit standard for most people to openly accept about their parents, or people in general, but it just so happens that my father was an industrial arts (aka wood shop teacher) for over 30 years. You can now understand how having all of his fingers and thumbs is a much bigger accomplishment that you would have originally thought. It definitely helps one understand his attention to detail.
Some people are born to be artists, some are born to be singers, some are born to be that guy in IT that is incredibly self indulgent and bloated with self importance and will take two day to complete a task that only takes about 2 minutes of actual work. Then there are some, like my dad, that were born to be a teacher. Teaching has always been his calling, his passion, and his joy in life. He was the one teacher that everyone loved, and would get the loudest reaction from the student body when his name was announced.
He also treated everyone equally. I even flunked my brother one quarter because my brother felt the need to make a point to the other kids in class. A few kids were teasing my brother one day, telling him that he was going to get an A because his dad was teaching the class. So to prove them wrong, my brother did nothing in class for a good portion of the quarter and accumulated an F, just to show the kids that my dad always give the grade you earned. It didn’t matter who you were.
The stories about this man and by this man are almost as epic as the stories he would make up each night and tell us as we would go to sleep each night. I suppose if I had to pick just one word to describe my father it would be “storyteller.” He is, was, and has always been a storybook, waiting for someone to ask him a question so he could reply, “That reminds me of a story.” Then for the next 5 to 20 minutes he would share his story with you, and anyone willing to listen. At the end your question would be answered and you imagination would be filled. Some stories were made up just to display the point he was trying to make, but most of the time they were true stories about him, doing something he shouldn’t have, and was sharing it with you in hopes that he could teach you, through his story, the lesson he learned, so that you could hopefully avoid learning the same thing he did in the same way he had.
So on this Father’s Day I raise a glass and toast… To the father’s in my life who have always offered their support and love, who have give advice when it was asked and offered when it wasn’t, but was needed anyway. Thanks for being there through the tough times and laughing with me in good. And to my dear old dad, thank you for passing on your gift as a storyteller, which actually reminds me of a story…
I love you, I thank you, and I honestly wouldn’t be here without you! Cheers!
How was your Father’s Day?
Image Source:
Google Images, key words: Father’s Day, flooded basement, yard faucet, dusty bookshelves, teacher, and storyteller.
It’s funny how our brains cycle through things. I have a list to subjects that I will be writing about at some point… probably, most of them definitely, with a few maybes. The thing is as a result of the few pieces I did on little people my brain has started pulling up more little people storied that I have in the story database in my mind. Of all these stories coming to mind, today I find myself sharing another story of about a friend’s kid, which always puts a smile on my face. And again, out of respect for their privacy, I’ll be changing a few names.
When Elise’s friend, Janet, told her mom that she was hungry her mother took this as a perfect opportunity to avoid fighting with her daughter and told her she would fix something for her and Elise. Fish sticks were the first thing that popped into her mind, because she knew Janet would eat them. Janet’s mom then asked Elise if she would like some fish sticks.
“Well, my dad’s white and he likes fish, and my mom’s brown and she doesn’t like fish, and I’m brown and I don’t like fish, and my little sister Anna is brown, and she doesn’t like fish either. So brown people don’t like fish.”
