Category: Dad Book

A Prophet Named Dad

At first the band was the 3 brothers and Nate Dawg. Then Nathan moved away and it was the 4 brothers, in a punk/pop quartet called Pops Body Shop. This particular story is about a time that Dad made his presence felt during one of our concerts. He and Mom were always involved in the band. They went to most of our shows. Dad drove the van, pulled the trailer, and helped us set up and tear down the instruments and sound equipment. They were super supportive in every way.

In this case, Dad was so supportive that he got us banned from a venue for life. Continue reading A Prophet Named Dad

Pump It Three Times

“Pump it 3 times.”

“Ok, now pump it 3 more times, then hold it.”

No, these are not the lyrics to a popular wedding party song. This is my Dad, under the van, talking to the young me, sitting in the driver’s seat. He’s bleeding the brakes. I love those memories of working with Dad on the cars. I’ll never forget being strong enough to actually help, and still small enough to get my hands into tight spots that he couldn’t reach. We’d listen to talk radio and chat and work. He was the walking stereotype of a backyard mechanic. Duct tape, zip ties, engine grease, and dirty hands were part and parcel of many a weekend in our driveway when I was growing up. Chilton was his best friend.

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Epic Battle With the Trashman

Dad was a thrifty, amateur mechanic. Although this would occasionally backfire, he usually got the job done. Our full size van had some damage to one of the doors, and it didn’t quite shut flush with the body. This was a standard door, not the sliding door you see in minivans. He went to the junkyard and found a replacement door. This was before YouTube, so it required some creativity and ingenuity to get the old door off and the new door installed. It was a different color, of course, so we were THAT family for a while.

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The Death Curve

It’s really an “aging” curve, but I prefer “death” curve because it is more macabre. The sad truth is that life expectancy in the US is stagnant or even declining, in large part because of our poor health habits. My grandmother is 97, and still living on her own. She doesn’t drive, she’s losing her eyesight, but she maintains a reasonable quality of life. She’s on a solid curve. Dad died at 62, but up until the last few months he was extremely active and healthy. It was an excellent curve until cancer reared its ugly head. I’ve been pretty active over the past 2 weeks. I made a comment this morning about how my shoulder was bothering me and Lianne suggested that I take it easy. Dad would always say that the best way to overcome an achy joint or an aggravating injury was to go exercise it. He ended up having surgery on both shoulders, so maybe this isn’t the best medical advice, but I do think it is excellent life advice. I sounded like Dad when I responded to Lianne, “As soon as you quit doing stuff, you’re dying.” Jaron, ever the pragmatist, said, “We’re all dying.” Ok, he has a point, but it is possible to die healthy. That should be our goal. This chart shows the difference between dying healthy, and dying sick.

Death Curve Continue reading The Death Curve

That’s One Way to Win

Sometimes with guys, everything is a competition. I remember competing with my Dad to see who could stuff the most muffin into his mouth. In the parking lot after going out to eat, we’d race to the car, we’d race to the house, we’d do pushups, play racquetball, and generally try to beat each other at whatever activity presented itself. So it was that we found ourselves taking Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University (FPU) class, and another competition was born.

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The Family Picture

I assume most families have this tradition. Once every few years everyone gets together over the summer or over the holidays, and someone decides it would be a good time to get a picture. That held true for my mom’s family, who would usually congregate down in Jacksonville FL at Mema’s (my mom’s mom) house. Mom has two sisters, and of course, the three of them and Mema, had some particular ideas about how the family picture would go down. Continue reading The Family Picture

O Club

When Dad was in the Navy it was a man’s world. It was before the Tailhook scandal. It was widely understood that the military was filled with boys and that boys would be boys. Dad was different. Other than laughing at fart jokes, he had left boyhood behind. He was a gentleman in the old-fashioned sense. He treated women with respect. He believed in avoiding sin and avoiding temptation, and he lived those convictions in his life, whether at home or on the job. Sometimes that was easier said than done. Continue reading O Club

Save Us, Oh Queen Bee

It’s those moments, when your adrenaline really gets pumping, that stay with you forever. In college my brothers and I formed a band, Pops Body Shop. We had a blast, and Mom and Dad were both very supportive. They went to every concert. Dad helped unload and load the gear. They’d help with expenses. Dad would also help drive the van when we were on the road. It was their full sized Ford, and we’d tow a trailer behind us with our gear in it. One weekend we had a concert in West Virginia. It was a longer drive than most concerts, so Mom didn’t go. We finished late on Saturday night and then headed straight for home.

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Creaking Joints

I get up and shuffle down the hallway toward the garage to work out at 5:30 in the morning. First, my left big toe pops. Then my right knee. Then I feel a little tightness in my ankles, so I twist them one at a time and am rewarded with a satisfying pop from both. This reminds me of Dad.

Growing up we had a wood burning, cast iron, fireplace insert that we used to heat the living room. Dad was usually the first one up, and he’d get the fire started in the winter. Sometimes, however, I managed to get downstairs before him. I’d put some kindling on the embers from the night before and gently blow on them to get the fire going. It wouldn’t take long for Dad to wake up, and I always knew when he was heading down the stairs because I could hear him coming.

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Housework For Boys

There’s a dying stereotype that says women do all the work around the house. Fortunately, I was brought up in a home where the chores were shared. Mom was home most of the time, and did the bulk of the child rearing and housework, but Dad was known for vacuuming and doing the dishes. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I’m married to such an awesome girl. Unfortunately, I haven’t quite lived up to expectations.

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