 The Meaning of Life
Today is my father's birthday. Dad died on New Year's Eve 1999 as they were lighting the fireworks off at the Eifel Tower. If we were lighting the candles on his cake he would be 89 today.
This past weekend while my cousin Michelle was here from Illinois, we were talking about all the "boy-things" my Dad made sure we both had learned to make us self reliant. It was funny because the conversation was being held while we were both up on step-ladders, putting up the last of the top boards on the patio with both of us holding power drivers. We both agreed Dad would have been proud of us.
 My father was definately a product of the depression and had a colorful life, like the time he drove a CAT grader for the excavation of Boulder Dam.(left) He was a proud WWII veteran who was awarded the Silver and Bronze Star and worked his final tour at the White House after being wounded. Where he met my mother, who was working for Everett Dirksen. For over 46 years he worked as an engineer for International Harvester, Farmall Works, (now Navistar/JI Case International,) retiring with the obligatory gold watch and retirement pension with benefits my generation will never know. A couple of the things he designed the systems on are on the right.  (Cub Cadet and MX-Series.)
 However the job at IH wasn't the only thing Dad did. He rarely sat still.
In his spare time he built a house or two, engineered and fine tuned Indianapolis style racing engines and pitcrewed once in a while, for one of my uncles who owns has Indy cars. (He's the one handing AJ a drink while watching the crew.) He also helped another uncle with the electronics of the radio and television stations. We built several boat docks with another uncle, and an airplane hanger for another. The garage workshop he built for equiptment and machinery was the size of a 2-3 car garage. The damn building holds more tools than the entire Snap-On and Mac tool catalogues combined. He ran the family farm, and loved to fish and hunt.
 Despite the fact he could have nearly anything he wanted, do whatever he wanted, his most cherished possession was the 8 point buck (deer) he got on a hunting trip to Colorado and his complete set of Federal Duck Stamps and Prints. The antlers which still hang in the house in Illinois and will hang over my fireplace as soon as I can figure out how to get them to California in one piece. Sorry Dad I will still put Christmas decorations on them every year to continue the family joke.
The funny part of my life was that in my eyes there wasn't anything I was ever aware of he couldn't build, fix, engineer or do. ("When in doubt read the plans, then rip it apart to see what they really built,"is what he would tell me. Still makes sense.) He insisted that I learn about tools and how to use them safely, drive a tractor, and be able to change my own oil and tires. (Sorry Dad I call AAA today.) He also insisted that because I was an only child I completely understand about the family business affairs at a very early age, including who to trust, just in case, and how to do the banking by the time I was the age of 8. Oh yes-- and he insisted I got good grades, especially if I skated.
Nothing in our life was ever normal to me. Mom and Dad were different-- doing things "their way," which included going hunting together. Ozzy and Harriett sure as hell didn't live at our house!
Considering how I live today-- it would be too boring for them. Until they saw me building the patio with Michelle. That would have tickled both of them.
3:51:10 AM 
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