re: Baw shite your dad did when you were growing up...

In a nice garden district restaurant, My dad took the beads out of a woman’s hair and threw them at her because he didn’t like the way it looked.

We were hunting along an old abounded railroad that no longer had tracks. It was positioned between two bayous and wood ducks would fly over early in the morning, hauling arse. This guy walks up and stands beside my dad. He seemed to be a nice fella, but clearly should not have walked up on us and stood right beside my dad. A wood duck came over and the guy raised his gun firing three shots. For each shot, the wood duck went straight up in the air and finally on the third shot folded up. The duck was really high and the guy made a great shot albeit the last shot. My dad then walked over and picked up the dog and walked back to where they were standing. The stranger shortly left. I walked over and asked my dad “Why did you go get that guy‘s duck? He hit it on the third shot“. My dad asked me was it three shots or four shots… I replayed it in my mind. The guy shot three times, each time the duck climbed straight up in the air. Then, there was a fourth shot. My dad shooting one time with the duck at its highest point and folded it like a cheap suit.

Put peanuts in his coke

Ran a chainsaw in shorts and tennis shoes

Never fished with anything but a cane pole

Could back a trailer up using only the mirrors…and expected me to do the same

Kept a vehicle a minimum of 10 years before trading.

Had portraits of both Lee and Jackson

Would regularly check me out of school in order to help him at work.

I watched him whip some guy’s arse on a golf course who attacked after my dad threw his ball in the pond after he drove into our foursome, which had the right of way.

The guy came charging down the fairway wielding his club over his head. He was quickly disarmed and took an arse-whipping.

He later showed up with security who determined that the guy deserved what he got.

Whenever we went fishing dad would pull out a plug of tobacco and take a bite and spit tobacco the entire trip.

Of course, when I got older I figured I'd mimic that and bought a plug. Took me a big ole bite and after about 4 minutes I was green and laying in the boat.

My dad would always grill chicken on Sundays after church. Me and my older brother would hang out with him while he grilled and drank some Old Milwaukee's Best.

When his beer was empty, he would just say "get me another beer" and me and my brother would go in the kitchen and fight to be the one who got him his beer. We knew that if you were the one who got him the beer, he would open it and give you the first sip. As a consolation prize, the other kid would get a puff off his cigar.


We were probably 8 or 10 yo at the time.

Wore coaches shorts while playing rec league softball and would have one nut hanging out in the batters box

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Baw shite your dad did when you were growing up...

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shite. Too much to count. The thing I remember as a kid that caused me to get bit by the speed bug was dad having a POS work truck that he just had an engine guy rebuild the engine because it was smoking. He told the guy to make it and the trans good and strong enough to pull his trailer and small backhoe as it had struggled till then. Well he did. Repurposed 650 Holley carb, aluminum intake, bumped up the cam a little, and put on a set of old 327 300 horse heads on it.

About six months later we went to town in it and some teenage punk in a truck was tailgating dad trying to pass while there was oncoming traffic. He was watching him in the rear view mirror and was mumbling something I probably shouldn't have heard at 6 or 7.

Teenage punk finally got an opening on a long bottom stretch and pop floored it. That old POS early 80s work truck with a ladder rack dusted his arse. I'll never forget that. It was so awesome.

Hell.... during the ice storm last week, my elderly father pulled the panel off the circuit panel. Flipped off the main breaker, took a wire and jumped out two single pole breakers (one on each side of the box to energize both legs), flipped off all the 220s and unused 120s, plugged in the generator to an outside plug using a suicide cord, and sat and watched TV, had all living area lights, ran the refrigerator, and had lights on the way to his bathrooms for three days they were without power.

He effectively turned an outside outlet into a generator plug.

Me and the brother has been in discussion about getting him a gener link transfer switch for his birthday. lol.

my dad drove his own car around his town in rural mississippi (early 1950's) when he was 13. my grandfather had his own dealership and my dad's best friend's father was the sheriff.