Today is Sunday. Some people rest on Sundays. I do too, sort of but I also often dedicate it to getting shit done that doesn't get done during the week. Today, I went for a long long bike ride on my new road bike [thanks miguelito]. Well, it's not actually mine yet, I haven't paid him. I averaged about 15mph if anyone cares. I know on fb people like to impress people by talking about their workouts. . . or something so I figure it's important to include that in today's blogpost. Anyways, that's all off topic. So I was cleaning out my bedroom with hopes to dispose of unnecessary items just adding clutter to an already cramped space, when I found a church bulletin with the following words scribbled on it:
"Hey Bob, I wanna buy you some of these slippers."
"Why don't I buy some of this hose and beat you to death with it."
"Hey Dad you need to slap her some time, she's into some real weird shit."
me and my dad with a Shelby Mustang
Before looking at my chicken scratch I wondered what the hell was so important about that stupid church bulletin that I tucked it away in the drawer of my desk. After reading it I realized those were things said by my father and his friend Bob last year on a short trip we took to an old car show in Hastings on Father's Day, which usually falls within a couple of days of my dad's birthday. In addition to cars there was also a "flea market," which consisted of a bunch of vendors selling anything from car parts to crocs (or slippers as my dad called them). Now my dad and Bob are not as fond of foreign cars as I am so when I commented on how awesome some cool old Toyota truck was Bob thought I needed to be set straight. Thus the comment about slapping me. I found this whole experience quite entertaining so that's probably why I tucked away that little piece of paper, hoping to find it one day and laugh again as I recalled that hot father's day spent walking around a dusty field looking at cars with two men that had been friends for longer than I had been living.