I stopped by Eric’s site earlier in the day before I went to work and finally put up a post. Being as how the last time I was there I crapped all over the place with my poorly executed Photoshop and left the refrigerator door open I though that perhaps I would post something at least resembling writing before things degenerate too much. Of course there is always later in the week…

Hang out over here for any length of time and one cannot help but start reminiscing about past events and childhood. I don’t know what it is but Eric just brings out the child in some of us. Maybe it’s that poetic prose that lulls me into a numb sleep or maybe it’s just that guy lurking in the background with a shovel ready to beat the hell out of. I guess we’ll never know. Shovel Boy and the wife should be in Europe by now and I hope they are having a wonderful time. I was pleasantly surprised when he asked me to come back after posting that picture of his manboobs the last time he was on vacation…

One thing I was reminiscing about was my tenth birthday, which is one that I remember with great clarity, or at least enough fondness to retell the story enough times that I won’t forget…

We never had a great deal of money growing up. We weren’t by any means poor, but sometimes it was a stretch to make ends meet. One year my dad decided to go out with a friend from work and help cut down trees. I don’t know if his friend sold firewood or what, but he got paid and got some firewood so it took care of a couple of birds. It so happened that he was going on my tenth birthday and dragged my ten year old self with him.

I do remember that we got up at the crack of dawn, earlier than I was used to at that time, although now it doesn’t seem such a big deal since I do it every day.. Before meeting his friend we stopped and had breakfast at a Denny’s, just me and the old man. French toast and sausage. I guess the palate holds memories for awhile as well, because I can still remember the smells.

We spent the great majority of the day (or so it seemed to a 10-year-old) out there cutting wood. I carried logs, but mostly rolled them. I am not a huge man by any means and 30 years ago I was most definitely smaller than I am now so I probably rolled most of them. I don’t remember if I was really any help at all but at the end of the day I received $10 from my old man and another $10 from his friend for working. Holy crap! Back in 1976 $20 was like a million for a ten-year-old. I don’t remember what I spent it on. Most likely candy and other garbage the kids buy, but I remember thinking I was just completely rich and I remember the feeling I got when my dad thanked me and handed me the cash. Appreciated. That was a nice feeling.

I had more to say on it this morning but have run out of words. It’s been a hella long week and I have to get ready for work shortly. Luckily I am off tomorrow and may get a bit of nice shut-eye tonight provided everyone shows up for work.

Have you signed up to win $50 in my post contest yet?

Trackposted to Diary of the Mad Pigeon, The Pink Flamingo, Rosemary’s Thoughts, third world county, The Crazy Rants of Samantha Burns, The World According to Carl, and Gone Hollywood, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

Comments |0|

  • Sounds like it’s not a lead as much as it is the father’s commitment to making sure that every possible area is searched. It’s got to be terrible for her parents to continue on like this, not knowing what happened to their daughter….

  • That’s pretty much the impression I got. They just want to be very thorough, even more so since the ‘witness’ that came forward back in the fall passed a polygraph. He says that he saw Joran coming out of the area in the middle of the night, the same one that Natalee disappeared.

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