Thats a hell-of-a-story Warren.
You should write for a living. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.
It had all of the intrigue, adventure, and excitement you'd expect in a more published document.
Your words let me into your life, painted the pictures of your surroundings and described very well your situation.
The best part of it all, was that it ended in a good way. (I especially liked the circular reference to the glowing briefcase).

What was hilarious...see, I was editting the same copy of your story...I liked it so much.
HOWEVER, I guess we see what happens in this system when two people are working on the same log record.
Once I figured you were editting it, and thus overlaying any of my mods (I know this editor better), it all came together.
I'll avoid that in the future.
But your story seemed GREAT!
I was doing hilights, and paragraph mods...

BTW: If you do SHIFT ENTER, this editor will drop you down one line instead of two. But the usual way to use it is only to press ENTER when you actually want the end of a paragraph...(weird, I know, its not all my software).

Got the Mustang squared away (except for an oil change).
Removed and repaired the drivers power seat. Purchased extra fuses and tools for $20.
Got the Green Slip, and the plates "BEQUICK" ordered for $120.
Got two extra keys made from Ford for $150.
It pretty much took all day...sheesh.
So far, I've learned a lot about the modern day engines just by using a manual, OBD II reader and some common sense. Oh, hahaha, also, getting $54 from LVDude. Thats kind of nice.
Thanks everybody!!!

With it's petroglyphs and scenic beauty, Sloan Canyon is one of Southern Nevada's most precious natural resources yet few people get the chance to experience it.

The Bureau of Land Management is expecting approval by the end of the year for a plan to make Sloan more accessible to the public.  At the same time -- the BLM hopes to better protect Sloan's historic sites from thieves and vandals.

"We are at Petroglyph Canyon trailhead in Sloan Canyon National Conservation Area," said Robbie McAboy with the BLM, as he escorts an Eyewitness News crew.

Right now the only way to access Sloan Canyon is to hike into the canyon.  There are no paved roads, no trail markers, no visitor's center, no bathrooms and did we mention the rock scrambling?

What would be worse, tommorrow being a failure or tommorrow never coming at all.
Two months ago I almost died. Last month my father died.
I have no career, just dreams of a future. Dad's tour of life is over.
We're all just a few heart beats away from the end so what difference does anything make anyway?
For all we know, this life is a dream and when we die, we wake up.
That's what I prefer to think.
That thought allows me think anything we dream of is possible, even life itself.

I remember when that song came out! I also remember the bathing suits girls would wear back then. Almost all of them were one piece, and it was porn to photograph someone's belly button!

At Frys...now you may be wondering, What the heck is an OBD II?
Well,  it is the latest standard since 1996, for the plug that reads a cars ECR chip. I think I got that right.
Its the same connection used at the smog check stations. The software it fascinating.

He got to the game through my site, which I told GMa, had safe links in it. And they are safe links.
However, if a person has it in his heart to use the Search area for pictures of "Decapitated Heads", they'll find it.
When I got my first dictionary
The first word I looked up was "damn".
It bothers me that Dustin looks for games that depict bloody destruction, death and senseless violence.
Anyway, I caught him playing a game with a leg, that had blood running down it, and a stick rammed through it.
I got upset. I asked him to show me how he got to that game.
He closed the window, then started to shutdown the laptop.
You came by, about the time I told Dustin to stop.
He got up, and you sat down. You were going to show him how to show me how he got to where he was.
Dustin kept saying I didn't do anything wrong. He started to run to the couch.
I grabbed his head, and told him he was going home right now.
He knew he'd done wrong and he was trying to hide it.
I'm tired of him seeking out games like that, that eventually trash my PC's/laptops.
I told him, the people who have it in their minds to spend the time to write games that depict senseless violence, don't think twice about adding a little malicious code to their games.
Of course, Jennifer came by, and was familiar with the game. She said Robert showed it to him.
So here's a summary of what happened:
Dustin finds a sick game, I catch him, he denies it, you don't understand it, and Jennifer blames Robert for it.
We've got so much to accomplish this month.
Its hard to justify the time it takes to fix Dustin.
It seems to me, within each of our hearts, there lives good and evil.
Dustin's heart leans to evil. I'm not sure what to do about that.
But it seems to me, that every time he comes over, he's going to do something that is either cruel, or excessively greedy.
Its like, we're all at peace here and are happier when he's busy playing with his gameboy.

His music takes me back to the girl I loved so much back in the early 80's.
Thinking about the my past month, the past year, my life...
I'll always love that girl (Lisa Hupe Cutlar), but, now she's just a memory of some very good times.
Its hard to imagine that any of those times actually happened.  All I have is pictures.

They say a goldfish, once it swims around the tank, doesn't have enough memory to remember it had been there before.
So, to the goldfish, the circle around the tank must seem like an infinite trip.

Memories of loves gone by, Lisa, Annette, Beth, Ruth......and so on and so on...
If I just had the memory of a goldfish, each one of them would be a lost memory.
As long as I meant "I Love You" to whoever I said that too, that's what my memory holds, that I said I love you to someone.

But no matter how I meant it, I'm forgotten to them, just like the goldfish forgets swimming around a fish tank.

I can still hear my dads voice on the cell phone the last day of August.
It flows from my heart, those memories. They make me confused,
I'm not sure whether to cry or to celebrate his evolving to whatever comes next.
But as each year passes, another person dies that I'll think about everyday of my life.
What will come of all of this?
What I see, is god everywhere, taking all forms in all things. I've seen his good sides.
God is everywhere. Those good times, they did happen, but nothing we did will probably ever make a difference.
Memories are for us to love or hate. I love mine.
It'll be hard when I leave this world. I've got great memories!
I wish love could last forever and I wish I could be a part of everything in love.
Today, was another good day for me.
How was yours?

What a gorgeous car. I got if from Deals On Wheels for $6,900, but its almost in mint condition.
Its a wonderful thing, driving down the strip with the top down....YAHOO.....

---These words were written by my mom on her dad's passing---
These words and message wil live in my heart forever.
Thank you, Dear God, for my father and for theses words he never failed to speak each night to me.
"I love you with all of my heart
I want us to live togther for the good of each other.
And to work together in peace.
And when I get too old to take care of myself,
I want you and James Alfred (his son) to take care of me"
Dad would smile, always a sweet smile. And he said
"I hate to let you go" (holding my hand). And he let go, and smiled again, and left.

I forget how much they offered those Camden Apts for.
But after they add on the application fee, and all the other stuff, what did it actually cost per month.
I know the apartments around here offer $300 move in,
but there are always those nasty little catches that get the monthly bill up for each month you stay there.
You'd think as being a 3rd time landlord, I'd already know some of those crappy little tricks.
The $300 move in apartments charged that much if you moved in by the 20th...but they'd bill you $1,000 by the 5th.

Great deal at $6,900 out the door. This car runs GREAT! It gets great gas mileage and is super fun to drive. 98,000 miles on it, but these days, cars seem to run for quite a while. Wholesale Blue Book on it was $4,800, so we did good buying from a car lot with everything including a warranted. We're happy. Plus, its in Becky or my name, so, if I have a fatal asthma attack, she's got something now.
I love her so much.
Next thing on the agenda
Get the things fluids up, fix a few minor problems, and title it. Its a weird situation I've got here, my truck is registered in Florida and the car is registered here. hmmm.
We've got to check with a lawyer for Travel Notary Referral Services for Be Quick.
Hopefully, I can just add a DBA to Cutlar Enterprises. That would be sweet. Then, we get business cards, and a yellow page add...should cost around $5,000 to get going, but in the end, we should be making 6 figures...at least thats the plan.
I found a site that beats the heck out of my ad site (LVDude).
Its in Yahoo. It sorts cars by year and type, and will list all the cars from a lots inventory...thats way better than what I've got. So, I guess that experiment was a year's effort down the tubes.
Oh well, at least, I've done so much better than those other people who have been busting their ass on an 8 to 5 job for the last 6 years.
I've actually shown a gain....the least amount of effort for the most amount of money is a formula that works.

Every generation, blames the one that came before. And all of those frustrations, come beating on your door.
I know that I'm a prisoner, to what my father held so dear. I know that I'm a hostage, to all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him, in his living years

Crumpled bits of paper, filled with imperfect thought. Stilted conversations, Im afraid thats all we've got.
You say you just dont see it, he says its perfect sense. You just cant get agreement in this present tense
We all talk a different language, we all talk in defense
Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear. Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye

So we open up a quarrel, between the present and the past. We only sacrifice the future, its the bitterness that lasts
So dont yield to the fortunes, you sometimes see as fate. It may have a new perspective, on a different day
And if you dont give up, and dont give in...You may just be o.k.

Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear. Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye

I wasn't there that morning, When my father passed away
I didnt get to tell him, all the things I had to say.

I think I caught his spirit, later that same year
Im sure I heard his echo in my babys new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

Say it loud, say it clear. You can listen as well as you hear.
Its too late when we die, to admit we dont see eye to eye
-- In memory to my late father Louis "Lou" Cutlar ---

I was getting used to him calling around twice a week. And on the trip to and from Florida, we seemed to be talking most of the way on my cell phone. Its sad to lose someone.
When someone who you grew up with dies, you realize you are the keeper of those shared memories.
Its bizarre how the mind behaves as the memories we have become more pronounced when they are fading away.
The most profound thought I had about dad's life was that house he built in rural Kentucky.
It had a colonial style to it, and it was the only one like it there when he built it in the 1970's.
When I went back in 2005, the whole neighborhood matched his design. There was at least a square mile of simular styled houses.
Dad had told me he didn't feel like he'd really accomplished anything in his life.
Isn't it odd, that his, just building another house, could have had such a far reaching affect?

But instead, Jennifer, Joy, Amy, and Dustin hung out...Robert went with someone else.
It was a fun day!

Adopted and ratified in 1791, the Bill of Rights are:
First:
- Prohibits laws establishing a religion.
- Bans laws which would restrict freedom of religion, speech, press (now interpreted as covering all media)
- Gives the right to peaceably assemble and petition the government.
Second:  Authorizes a well regulated military. Construed to be the right of individuals to bear arms.
Third: No quartering of soldiers in private homes without the owner's consent.
Fourth:
- No unreasonable search and seizures,
- No warrants without probable cause.
- Warrants must be affirmed by a judge and describe the place to be searched, the person or things to be taken.
Fifth:
- A Grand Jury must be held for capital crimes of felonies except under martial law in the time of war or "public danger"
- No person may be tried twice for the same offense;
- No one may be compelled to be a witness against himself
- No one can be deprived of life, liberty or property without "due process of law"
- No taking of property for public use (eminent domain) without just compensation.
Sixth:
- Right to a speedy and public trial
- Impartial local jury
- Information on the nature and cause of accusation
- Confront witnesses against him, right to subpena witnesses,
- The right to have counsel.
Seventh:
- Juries may be demanded in civil cases (over $20)
- The jury shall be trier of the fact in such cases as required by Common Law.
Eighth:
- No excessive bail, excessive fines or "cruel and unusual punishment."
Ninth: Stating these rights shall not be construed to deny that other rights are retained by the people.
Tenth: Powers given to the United States and not prohibited to the states, are reserved to the states or to the people.

I guess thats a good word for it. I used to talk to my Dad maybe twice a week.
Now he's gone. I suppose depression would be a good description for the way I feel.
I just want to sleep all the time. I've lost all motivation.
Help!

Robert and Joy came over. Dustin and Jeniffer stayed over. Me, I just poked around. We switched from DSL to COX cable. The guy did a terrible job, so I had to redo it. Nothing worked, not the phone, not the TV, just the internet. Sheesh.

Plato wrote in his "The Republic"
Each member of a society ought to do what they are best at and be alleviated from responsibility of those things they are not good at, which can be done by others.
I often wonder what kind of world this philosphy would create.
How would it be, if Johnny started school in the fifth grade, past the grade of his olderer sister in the second?
I think right now, capitolism and free enterprise tries to allow us to find our own levels in society. And I wonder how well that is working.
To me, the levels we find still seem to be determined by wealth and locations that present opportunity; and not merit.
Brilliant minds are rarely discovered in Podunk and feeble minds often have highly financed degrees.

I miss Dad's calls. He'd probably be calling me about now today.
He was such an interesting soul.  He gave me inspiration.
Please note, I'm not saying these things in a bad way.
He thought the pyramids were built by Ufo's
Its easy for us to assume the pyramids were built by 200,000 slaves in a hot desert.
Its nice his thoughts challenged that assumption. Who really knows how they were built?
He thought you could beat the stock market with a $49 program.
Its probably possible to beat the stock market with a computer program, if I wrote it and hacked the security codes.
Its always seemed to me that if you could change the time of a stock transaction, you could always beat the system.
After all, isn't that why insider trading is illegal....they can buy or sell the stocks based on what the public doesn't know yet.
But besides all of that, I worked for Bank of America. I had the power of god over their systems.
I'm just honest to the point of stupidity.
He thought that I am a  loser.
I am a loser in many people's eyes. I haven't worked in 6 years. I've been a drunk and a drug abuser. I'm not filthy rich.
I haven't fit into society's normal standards for life. What I'm saying is, I'm far from a normal person.
What bus boy buys a condo when he's 20 years old.
What person do you know thats supported over 47 people for 3 months or longer.
When my neighbors went broke, I ran an extenstion cord and a hose over to their house, so they could survive.
Among the people I haven't supported are probably the ones I should have.
I haven't supported my oldest sister, Linda, or my next oldest sister, Kelly.
They both need help. I would assume they need it badly too.
I offered to pick Kelly up in Texas and give her a free place to stay. She turned me down.
Kelly needs help, is probably suicidal, and has a substance control problem. I think she's burned every one thats ever tried to help her. Its sad, that so many people want to help her, but she insists life is against her.
She's created her own personal hell, and has chosen to live in it.
As far as Linda goes
Sonny and I gave her a place to stay back in the 70's at the condo. She moved in with my Mom. They had to ask her to leave.
Sonny took her back in, and she burned him. She'd bring in the dregs of society, would leave the windows wide open in the winter time...she just didn't care about anyone but herself. He had to kick her out. She left him no choice. That was in 1988, I think.
Since then, I'm the only person who's ever tried to find Linda.
She is quite insane, but, I think she could be controlled.
The point with Linda is, she tends to get married for money. She helps people from other countries become US citizens. Theirs no telling what her last name is now. My guess is, she's not even alive. The last address I found for her was in Twin Falls, Idaho. But, she has no checking account, no phone, no library card and no internet access. She's an enigma.

I asked him how he enjoyed his life.
He told me he was free. He ate well. He did whatever he wanted to do.
He said, sure, some times were tough, but for the most part, he had no complaints.
He said he had kids, was married, had a good paying job, but he wasn't happy.
His kids hated him for working all the time. His wife constantly criticized him, and she had affairs.
His job was mundane and unappreciative.
He decided that his life was being wasted.
He decided that the people he loved didn't care about him.
He realized he had no reason for loving the people he thought he cared about.
He took off one day, and never came back.
He discovered how easy life could be if you just let it happen.
Then, he read me an article he found in a newspaper.
It was about the economy, and he commented on it. He was well educated and very articulate.
I realized he was much more intelligent than I was. He had chosen his life, and he was living free.
Compared to my life back then, I was working 6 day a week, 12 hours a day.
My best posssession was a 1972 Mazda Rx2. I had a beatiful girlfriend, but I knew we were destined to go separate ways. All of my friends in Las Vegas were passer bys. My concept of happiness came in the forms of drugs and sex. If I had a goal, it was to have sex with as many women as possible.
Its hard to say whose life was better, them man in the dumpster, or me, drinking a beer watching him scavenge.
I suppose it doesn't really matter does it?
We both considered ourselves to be happy.
The difference between the two of us was he was honest about his nature.
I was drowning out my nature with drugs, alcohol and sex.

We entered the airport with 2 bags, one box, and a violin. The checked us in, but said I had to wait while they checked my baggage. I asked why me?
They said because I was SPECIAL.
I still don't know what that means. So, they asked me which bags were mine, and I said, I suppose all of them, but then I pointed to my Caesars bag and a taped up box. They went through it all. I told them I was confused about all of this airport security stuff, why we couldn't bring hair shampoo, underarm deorderant, toothpaste or any kind of gel. The guard referred me to a website.
Sonny asked, well, is it okay to bring Gum?
The guard said yes. Then I jokingly said doesn't C4 (plastic explosives) look like gum. About then the security guard told me if I said anything else, they would have me thrown in jail. At this point, I felt like my first amendment rights were being violated. I hadn't said anything that might cause harm to anyone, therefore, my speach should have been protected. I just kept quiet, however, I hate to be bullied and was very tempted to call my lawyer just to see if I was being victimized.
Sonny shot through the gates, after taking off his shoes.
I had to take off my shoes, and be frisked from top to bottom. They missed my exploding underwear, ha ha ha.
Is it just me, or did all of this sound silly?
I could have brought my laptop onboard. It could have been filled with liquid. BTW-They broke my camera.
A stupid little thing like a high wattage lazer pointer can bring down a 747, so, why play these games at airports.
I suppose what I'd like to say at this point is, the 9-11 terrorist succeeded in their goals.
It wasn't the destruction of the twin towers, it was the loss of our freedoms in the United States.
Our rights have been trampled and we've been set back decades in our fight for freedom.
The first trampling I got at the airport was my freedom of speech, which is protected by the Bill of Rights.

We used what little time we had to visit Presque Isle Park. It was a nice drive. There's the bay on one side and Lake Erie on the other side.
There was even a big monument to a guy name Perry (born August 23, 1785). Perry had entered the navy when he was 13 years old to work with his dad. He bopped around the world Europe and Africa, and at 20 he became lieutenant in command of a small schooner.
At 24, Thomas Jefferson gave Perry command of a gun vessel called the Revenge, which he wrecked. Anyway, he recieved a promotion to Master Commander.  Perry was the first in history to defeat an entire British squadron and successfully bring back every ship to his base as a prize of war. Perry, at the age of 28, was hailed by the public as a national hero for his victory on Lake Erie. He coined the phrase "We have met the enemy, and they are ours".
I mention this because at the age of 13, all I could think about was girls.
Its impressive that in those days, a father and son could work together without all of the connotations associated with promoting family members. I wish Dad had taught me something about brick laying. It would have saved me years of searching for a suitable profession.

We ate dinner. Sonny and I got Dads violin, and various other pictures and memorabilia, which, I will hold on to for life.
I hadn't seen a lot of these pictures, so I was in awe. Dad, as it turns out, wore my size clothes, so, now I've got a lot of classy clothes.
All in all, I cried about 3 or 4 times in private.
It will be sad not to hear him call me anymore.
I will miss him. That leaves Sonny, Kelly and Linda (if she's still alive).
The world is turning into a very lonely place.
Sometimes I hope my turn is next. I hate saying goodbye to the people I love.
I'm glad Dad surrounded himself with wonderful people. 
Everyone we met there was great!
Our conversations went from practical to wild, and there was a lot of laughter in between. I'm not sure thats the way Dad would have wanted it, but we had a lot of great things to say about him.
I'm going to miss his calls so much. *sniffle*sniffle*

Sonny and I tried to see some sites before the funeral. We went down to Lake Erie's Liberty Park...however, instead of going through the park, we climbed a steep hill across the road to get a bird side view. Unfortunately, there were a lot of red juicy berrys along the muddy climb. Half my face was covered with red dye. By the time we got down, we were late for the funeral, and my face and hair were bright red!!!
A lot of the pictures they had displayed were pictures I had taken.
I was really surprised about that. Everybody was very nice and very friendly. My eulogy was pretty much that Dad may have like believing in the far side of things, but, he left his mark in ways he never even counted. I mentioned the house he had built in Paducah, Kentucky. He got the design from a magazine cover. I guess you'd call it a Southern mansion, but on a smaller scale. Keep in mind, when he built it in the 70's, the houses in the neighborhood were wooden shacks. Today, for an area that covers at least 3 square miles, there are houses that all duplicate his design. His was the first and I'm sure it set the pace. Dad....it seemed...made his mark on the world.
Afterwards, we all ate at a really nice restaurant and as usually.
Aunt Tass paid for it all and I feel really guilty about that. I don't know how my conscience will deal with the fact that I already owe her so much. My carma insist I keep an even slate with very one.

Our plane was an exciting turbo prop. It was extremely cramped. I had a terrible time breathing. The interesting thing about this flight was unboarding the flight. We actually got to walk on the runway.
Inside, we got our rental car, some kind of Chrysler convertable. It was zippy and responsive.
Navigating around Erie was another story though. The streets change names just like in Las Vegas.
Where Dad lived (New Perry Highway), does not officially exist on any map. We got lost, a lot!
We arrived at Dad's house, finally, after a bunch of UTurns.
Honestly, by the time we go there, we were too burned out to look through his things.
The car, they said could be ready to drive back in two days, but by then, it was too late. We'd already spent a fortune on round trip tickets...the moment had passed. On the other hand, the car was a tank. It would have cost $1,000 to drive it back to Vegas. Plus, it would have taken day to get there.
Judy, by far, was my favorite person there though. She could make you laugh at the world exploding. Everybody there was great!!!
Tass, unfortunately, was paying for the whole shabang, that is, except for us. She offered, but, we just have too much pride to start excepting help now. We've been self sufficient for decades. But, she's a real sweatheart for offering.

It was a real mess. We couldn't find out if we Dad's car was drivable or even transferrable.
So, we booked a flight, room, and rental car for $1,800...way more than we could afford.
The security at the gates had us remove our shoes, and wouldn't allow us to carry any kind of liquid in our luggage, not even toothpaste. I did pack some Albuterol...some how that got past them...but they did take my bic lighter.
Along the way, and with all the walking, I almost passed out. A couple of nurses wanted to check me into their triag but I refused. Nicely enough, they gave me an albuterol inhaler, which was very gracious of them.
I took valiums for the trip up, so sleep was off and on. It was rough though.

Reposted from 8/10/2006 6:27:32 AM
Everything was beautiful from my first moment there.
I had a new sense of awareness. I EXIST!!! 
I had a consciousness that seemed to evolve from nowhere.
I had no memory of where I came from, or who or what I was. Matter of fact, I don't even HAVE a memory yet.
My whole essence seemed to be forming into something incredibly new.
I was receiving my instructions through transmissions of visions and knowledge.
These instructions showed me what I was suppose to do. They were helping me design myself.
These instructions prepared me for a journey I'd be taking through a tunnel towards a light.
When I was ready, forces beyond my control sent me pulsing through that tunnel towards the light.
I didn't understand these instructions, but I knew there were some things I had to do.
In what seemed like an eternity I breached the tunnel.
I was entering into a world of light.
When I got through the light there was air...sweet, sweet, beautiful air. 
How did this work? I didn't think I would have air. Every breath I took of it was amazing.
I could feel its energy pulse through my entire body. It was as invigorating. At the same time, it was somewhat disturbing.
I felt great breathing the air in. When I didn't breath in, I felt terrible. Breathing became my first addiction.
I became aware of these beautiful visions.
They were all blurry at first, but after a while, they seemed to crystallize in shapes of form and depth.
I was beginning to see Heavens kingdom.
The sounds were incredible.
I first heard music, at least I thought it was music.
I could sense the vastness of Heaven in my mind.
I could sense that others were helping me.
I didn't understand anything. I welcomed their help.
It seemed clear to me that these helpers were the angels of Heaven.
Everything was warm.
The energy of it all...I love this place...I LOVE HEAVEN!!!
I didn't know why I was here, or how any of this happened, but I liked it.
And finally, after a few moments of struggling, I was able to stand up on all four of my legs.
My instructions had told me where and how to find milk.
However, those instructions and visions left with the light. I have no idea about what I'm supposed to do next.
But if I ever do this again, and if I have any kind of choice about what I am going to be, I want to be like those things standing on two legs. They are angels. Matter of fact, I think one of them helped pull me through the tunnel of light. Those creatures seem to know everything.

Louis, (my dad), was an professional violist, and an accomplished brick mason for most of his life.
He is survived by his wife - Lottie, two sons - Louis and James, two daughters - Linda and Kathren, grandsons - Eric, Daniel, and granddaughters - Jessica, Grace.
Condolences at bruggerfuneralhomes.com. Sign the guestbook at www.GoErie.com/obits.
Published in the Erie Times-News on 9/7/2006.
Please sign the Guest Book

You truly have a gift of implicantly descriptive words of what would normally be everyday events for some.
Oh yea....
You click the ENTER <---- over there to enter a blog entry
You click the EDIT ----> over there to change your heading....
I should make that more clear, but, not many people use this blog anyway.

Dad, as excentric and mystically oriented as he was, was a very good man.
I'll love him till the day I die. We talked only two days ago. I believe he knew his time was coming.
His main concern was that his kids were going to be alright.
 
Note: These pictures were taken with a Polaroid Swinger (remember those?). I had a million other pictures, but somehow they've seemed to have evaporated.
Growing up with Dad was fun, and very interesting.
He liked the "Far Side" of things, which, by the way, is my favorite comic strip.
Memories of going to the lake, living in a three room house with its outhouse in the back, taking a bath in a #10 washtub, and riding around in that Volkswagon hit the top of my memories.
Dad was a hard worker. I believe most of his work still stands today.
He once put me on his shoulders at Barkley Airport so that I could see, believe it or not, John F Kennedy.

Red 3: 100 pts, 4 Red 3s: 800pts
Going out: 100pts, Going Out with nothing down: 200pts
Canasta with wild cards: 300pts
Canasta without wild cards: 500pts

Earlier, we went car shopping for the heck of it. These car lot owner/dealers crack me up!!!
"Yea, those Porsches, Mazdas, Toyotas, and Hondas are a death trap" this one dealer said while smoking a cigarette.
"You should spend $7,000 on this safe Mercedes that gets 8 miles to the gallon and has 180,000 miles on it."
I told him "If we did, and I only drove it 1,000 miles, it would have cost us $10 a mile to drive it, and we could rent a limo for for that price."

:)