Father's Day Memories
by Steve West on June 21, 2021
One of the greatest gifts I ever received was on my twelfth birthday. My Dad gave me a small box with a note inside.
It read, “Son, this year I will give you 365 hours, an hour every day after dinner. It’s yours. We’ll talk about what you want to talk about, we’ll go where you want to go, and play what you want to play. It will be your hour.” My Dad not only kept his promise but every year he renewed it, until I went off to college, marriage and career; a transition he prepared me for with our time spent together. It was the best gift he ever gave me. I’m the result of his time. (This story is a complete fantasy. How I wish it were true.)
One Reply to Father's Day Memories
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
Halloween Is For The Cats
Lest our feline readers feel left out, follow the links to some pretty cool costumed cats. They really look a lot more regal than their canine counterparts. Satan's kitty Earl, the cross-eyed cowboy kitty I am Me-owl from Krypton There isn't any garlic in that catnip, is there? Go »Stay-cation Week IV
Brenda had a minor medical procedure today so we dropped the girls at Grandma's house for the majority of the day. Got through the procedure and had a nice lunch (just the two of us) at a local restaurant. I had a steak sandwich that was very tasty except it was served on ciabatta bread. Go »Post-vacation Blues
Without going into great detail, my co-workers are muddle-brained knuckleheads that make the Keystone Kops look like a Mensa meeting. Federal sanctions are not that far-fetched. Changes will be made soon. Go »No Clowns On Halloween Allowed At My Door
Or "How Ronald McDonald Kicked My Ass" About ten years ago, shortly before Brenda and I got married, we attended a Halloween party at a friend's house. The primary reason to get together was obviously to dress up like we did when we were little but secondarily to get drunk as a sailor on shore leave. The standard "funny name" cocktails were offered like "sex on the beach" and "southern screw" and "raw sewage". Go »Let's Hope The Dog Doesn't Like To Chew On Stuff
The baby's a little fussy - I know, let's give her Mom's ashes. Talk about a niche market. I expect some may find this adorable and clever, I just find it creepy. Go »
Scott Hardie | June 26, 2021
It's a fantasy but it's a nice fantasy. I don't know how much I'd give to have a single hour with my father again, let alone an hour a day. Thanks for the thoughts, Steve. :-)