January 29th, 2011
Here’s my dad’s Chevy pickup parked outside its new home—my sister’s place. My dad didn’t care for cold weather and the problems it caused him and my mom, and like him, his poor old truck probably misses the warm sun, green grass and buttercups, as here. And like us, it probably misses him, too.
Ironically, on the day of my dad’s ceremony of the spreading of his ashes, the forecast was for cold and rain, weather he would not have been happy about, and, for days prior to and following the ceremony, the weather was such, but, on the day of…in the middle of what his mom would call “pewy” weather…there appeared a clear blue sunny sky, crisp air, and a welcome strong breeze…just as though my dad had special ordered it… .
June 14th, 2010
As strange as it sounds, hearing of Jimmy Dean’s death reminded me of my dad. In the 50′s, outside a Washington, DC, bar, which my dad and mom had just walked out of, Dean, who had had a little too much to drink, made an obnoxious advance toward my mom. A scuffle almost ensued between him and my dad, but a few of Dean’s entourage (maybe his Texas Wildcats?) pulled him back, apologized for his behavior and shuttled him away. Around that time Dean was hosting a popular DC radio show, Town and Country Time, on station WARL. Wow…to think that my dad almost decked the Sausage King.
This is my dad’s pickup truck, surrounded by dandelions and buttercups. He drove it to and from work for years, 60 miles a day, Monday through Friday, a good part of the way over country hills full of hairpin turns and deer lurking around every curve. Thankfully he never had any serious run-ins with the area wildlife. His faithful truck now resides with my sister.
If you’re new to the blog, you can read a little about my dad here.
