Thats me on the left, after bonking into a coffee table!
I don't think I've ever moved (as in all my belongings) without my Dad. From the day I got dropped off at college, to our family's biggest move back to Idaho, my Dad has been my moving buddy. We've loaded and unloaded countless U-hauls in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and Colorado.
I believe it was the move to Portland where we had to unload everything in an unexpected heavy snowstorm. The weather during the move from Portland was much nicer, but I'll never forget how hard we (and by "we" I mean mostly Dad) worked to clean the apartment, only to learn that the cleaning deposit was non-refundable!
It should come as no surprise that each move required larger and larger vehicles to carry all the stuff. In my younger days I managed to fit my stuff in my Jeep. But when we moved from Colorado to Idaho a few years ago, I had to rent the largest U-haul truck available. We hired some professional truck-packers, but my Dad was right there helping box everything up, carry it all down the stairs, and help to clean up the aftermath. On top of that, he also drove the truck all the way from Boulder to Boise through some nasty weather while I tried to keep up in our mobile dog kennel. After a brief rest in Boise, we continued on to the valley and unloaded everything in the largest self-storage space to be found. I think that move took a year off his life and I should have offered to pay for his knee and hip replacement surgeries.
Speaking of cross-country adventures... Somewhere in the 1992 timeframe i was living in central washington and computer BBSes were all the rage. At work we had real Internet and Usenet newsgroups. I wanted a Unix computer at home and became a little too excited about a used HP 9000/300 computer that was for sale -- in Oklahoma! I knew very little about it, other than the fact that it ran "Real Unix." This was an unbelievably big computer. It came with two disk drives that could be mistaken for a washer and dryer. My Uncle Don had to stop by and add some 220-Volt outlets to my rented apartment. Anyway, Dad was happy to make the road trip with me. We were probably driving for 3 days there and back, hauling this overpriced hunk of junk. But he was happy to do it.
Another great thing about Grandpa Roy is that he's always up for a project when he visits. He's helped lay new flooring, install toilets and sinks, finish retaining walls, and probably a few other project's that I've managed to forget about. We both have a strong do-it-yourself work ethic. I've always admired him for building a duplex and a vacation house.
Some other reasons that I love my Dad include:
- teaching me the correct way to mow a lawn
- teaching me how to change a tire and the oil in a car
- the Apple computer christmas 1981
- taking us camping and water skiing
And finally, my Dad is a consummate salesman. Except for a brief stint teaching and coaching, he's always been a salesman. He has the essential qualities of being outgoing and friendly. Unfortunately for me, I did not inherit these traits. However, one thing that I will forever cherish is that my-dad-the-salesman taught me the power of positive thinking. I still remember a little poem that used to hang in our house that went something like this:
If you think you dare not -- you don't.
If you think you are beaten -- you are.
something, something, something...
Life's battles don't always go to the faster or stronger man.
Sooner or late the man who wins is the man who thinks he can!
(ok, I had to look up the whole thing. It's a poem named "Thinking" by Walter D. Wintle.)
Happy Father's Day Dad.
