Like Father like Son???

When I was just a child I knew that there was something wrong with my dad. The problem was that everyone else acted as if they did not see anything unusual going on. I had my suspicions that it was partially due to the fact that he had earned a reputation in his youth for hitting first and asking questions later. The fact that he stood over six feet five inches tall and tipped the scale at more than 300 hundred pound probably served as a deterrent for correction as well.

It wasn't that my dad was the only doing crazy things at the time, although the things he did were always on a much bigger scale, but it was the fact that there was nothing that I could blame his behavior on. For instance when my friend Tony's dad kicked their dog so hard it went blind, we asked Tony, "what was that about?" Tony answered "My dad is drunk again," to which we all replied "Ahhhahhh." Case closed we had both cause and effect, his dad got drunk...stupid behavior ensued.

Unfortunately, my dad was not a drinker, but oh how I prayed to the Lord above to let it be revealed that he was secretly sipping on the sauce, and if I would have had access to any alcohol myself, I would have framed the guy.

You see I never had a reason why my dad did the stuff he did. I can hear you thinking, it could not have been that bad, allow me to enlighten you.

One Christmas as we were opening our presents, my dad picked up one of the presents. It was a rifle cap gun, the kind where you put a roll of paper caps inside and when you pulled the trigger it made a loud bang. There was a big red warning label on the side of the rifle that said "Do Not Fire Gun Inside or near flammable material, which my dad read aloud to us and then threatened us with bodily harm if he caught any of us firing it in the house or near anything flammable.

He then proceed to load the rifle and guess what...He fired it!!! Right next to my mother's brand new dish towels which were hanging next to him. The rifle produced a spark which ignited the towels which then burst into flames and caught the wall on fire. My mother who must have sensed something bad about to happen was there instantly with a container of water to douse the flames. I wish I could say that he was dipping into the "special eggnog" but he wasn't.

My Uncle used to raise livestock, and every year he used to give us some of the meat after it had been butchered. One year my dad decided that he wanted to butcher his own meat, and my uncle went along with him. It made perfect sense seeing that he had absolutely NO EXPERIENCE whatsoever with butchering a live animal. My uncle gave my dad instructions and told him whatever he did make sure he hung the animal upside down and allowed all of the blood to drain out of it before trying to cut it up.

Now I am not sure what my dad heard, but he killed the animal and then proceeded to tie a rope around it's hind legs and then tossed the rope over the tallest branch on one of the tallest trees in our front yard. He then tied the other end of the rope to his truck and proceeded to hoist the carcass almost 30 feet into the air. (I must inform you that we lived in the city not on a farm.) After hoisting it as far as he could, he stepped out of the truck and began admiring his handy work.

So there it was, much to the shock and awe of all of the neighbors within a four block radius in each direction, who could see our new beefy banner proudly swaying in the wind sprinkling red rain drops everywhere.

When my friends began to gather to gaze up at our new flag, they asked, "why is your dad doing that?" I soooooo wanted to say because he is drunk. At least then they would understand and actually sympathize and have pity on me. At least then they would see the burden I had to bear. But They couldn't sympathize with me because I couldn't tell them that he was drunk. This left only one option, and my friends would not say it, and they didn't think that I could see them as they twirled their fingers around their ears. (Twirling fingers around the ear = The Universal Sign for crazy)

Then there was the time he decided to play exterminator. He was having a problem with rats in the back yard. He had tried everything (except getting rid of the junk he was collecting that they used to hide in.) He tried all kinds of traps and poisons, nothing worked until one day he accessed his inner genius. He came up with a plan that involved fire and gasoline.

His plan was to find all of the rat holes and then fill them with gasoline, then plug the holes so they would not be able to escape. Wanting to make sure he had enough gas he went and purchased 20 gallons of gas and proceeded to fill and plug the holes. (I knew that this was going to turn out bad) After filling and plugging the last hole he lit a match and tossed it into the last hole.

There was a brief moment of silence, then a loud sucking sound and then thee LOUDEST EXPLOSION I have ever heard in my life. Even during my tour of duty in the Army, I have yet to hear an explosion to rival his backyard blowout. The force from the blast was so powerful it shook the ground like an earthquake and then there was a second EXPLOSION.

Within minutes the entire police and fire departments had arrived at our house. Apparently my dad's fire in the hole maneuver did not account for the fact that there were underground gas pipes in our back yard. His Trial By Fire not only got rid of the rats, but it also disrupted the entire cities gas service. It was a miracle our house didn't blow up. Again when asked why he did it...no answer.

Although his future antics did not include fire they were all equally as crazy. I still haven't discovered the actual cause but until I do I will continue to wear a garlic necklace stay away from fire and sharp objects, take Prozac several times a day and have my wife tie me up with a silver chain every full moon. So far it's working.

I might just be able to beat the curse after all.