Some bumb dumb daddy-Os

This blogg is dedicated to my beloved Gracie. Best dog ever! 2000 - 2011

She joins Henry, Birkley, Sam, Pepi, and Bootsie wherever my Heavenly Father keeps best friends who taught the most valuable lesson of unconditional love. I miss her so much:(

My Dad,

Don't get me started, my Dad taught me how to soak cat-tails (the tall reed like plant with the flower similar to a corn dog) in gasoline over night, let them dry out, then light them on fire! They make impressive flaming torches, they burn bright and long until they burned through there stems and fall to the ground emitting a shower of flaming sparks. Awesome. Once, I grabbed one that was still soaking in the coffee can full of gasoline, lit it with a match and ran around the back yard being trailed by a flaming waterfall. In mid stride the torch burned through the stem and sent the torch head bouncing off my thigh. A considerable amount of burning gasoline splashed my leg and instantly I was ablaze. Stop, Drop and roll wasn't in the vernacular yet, so predictably, I ran screaming my head off. My Dad, who was inside reading the paper, materializes, tackles me, wipes the flames away with his bare hands, an it's over. Maybe a first degree burn here and there and a bunch of singed hair, but I was fine. My Dad had no hair left on either arm from below the elbows (and he had very hairy arms), but was burn free, miraculous. He apologized to me for not showing me what could happen if you don't let the cat-tails dry. "Just call me dumb dumb daddyO!" This was back in Cleveland so that's third grade or earlier, so I was nine years old or younger playing with matches and gasoline! DDD

My Dad taught me how to smash up the rocket engines we used to shoot off our Estees Model Rockets, take the powder rocket fuel and make smoke bombs with it. Once, during a big party, I made a huge smoke bomb that was meant to impresses my parents party goers (3 "D" rocket engines, enough rocket power to launch the three stage Big Bertha or a three stage Enterprise! for those who know or care). As I bent down to light it with a match and the moment I struck the match, my smoke bomb exploded in flames! I ran through a mushroom cloud of smoke and ran as if my head was on fire, BECAUSE IT WAS! My Dad again materializes with a ice cold, soaking wet towel and extinguishes the inferno that was my face and hair. I had no eyebrows, no side burns and my bangs were burned to the scalp, but other than that amazingly unscathed. Again this is back in Cleveland. DDD

My Dad made mini-bikes with old bicycles and chain saw engines! One such bike was so fast that the first official test drive burned out the brakes. It was a pretty tall bike so I couldn't reach the ground, the brakes were out and I couldn't drag my feet so to stop so I would run at my Dad at about twenty miles an hour and he would snatch me off the bike. I wasn't supposed to ride it without him, but of course I did, and learned how to crash into the shrubs to stop! I was probably 7 or 8 years old. DDD

My Dad loved fireworks...that makes for about a dozen DDD posts, but I will have to save those stories for another day.