Tag Archives: quote

Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys – G.I.Joe

“I am not ashamed to admit that no man I ever met was my father’s equal, and I never loved any other man as much.”

—Hedy Lemarr


This story is courtesy of Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys.

This story is told through melody and verse. Joe Bonsall and the Oak Ridge Boys have a special treat for you today as they perform “G.I. Joe and Lillie”.

It starts like this:

“He was a streetwise kid from Philly. Just 1944, joined up in Uncle’s army, hit the beach before the war. A decorated hero…”

Now, Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys: READ MORE 

Dad Said “No Way.” I Did It Anyway.

“Learning is always rebellion… Every bit of new truth discovered is revolutionary to what was believed before.”

—Margaret Lee Runbeck


Today’s story is contributed by Pamela P.

Everything Dad said I couldn’t do, I did. I was determined to prove him wrong, to be my own kid.

Athletics — “girls don’t do that,” said Dad. Other “no ways.” Boys. Bikes. Electronics. Pants. I did them anyway. All the things that “girls didn’t (or shouldn’t) do,” I would jubilantly embrace.
no way dad

Pamela’s dad, Aquiles, as a young man

My family is Chilean; we came here when I was 3, fleeing Pinochet as political refugees. America didn’t soften Dad. He was — and is — the stereotypical Latino man (and dad). Overprotective. Authoritarian. Rigid. Sexist. And racist, too.

Dad was obsessed with sheltering his “little girl” from the ways of a land strange to him, but so comfortable, a perfect home to her. He was doing his best (I know now) but he was also driving me crazy.

(You can probably tell, I resented my father growing up. Today I am exactly what he was not — an artist, a progressive, an activist — he embodied everything I would come to abhor.)

My parents would later return to Chile (the States weren’t for them). My sister and I, as adults, stayed on. READ MORE 

Get Busy Living

“Get busy living or get busy dying.”

—Stephen King, ‘The Shawshank Redemption’


Today’s story is contributed by Jason Dwurple.

Mom died in 2011. Her loss devastated Dad and me. We discovered that we had a choice…

“Get busy living or get busy dying.”

Let me explain…
Dad and Mom met in high school. Within a few days, they were inseparable. They were best friends first. That was a time when it was unusual for boys and girls to have that kind of relationship.

get busy living

Dad, Mom, and Jason years ago.

Dad was a tough guy, a boxer. Mom was also an athlete, a track star. They did everything together. She helped him train. He ran with her in the mornings. They spoke late into the night on the phone. Within a year, they had fallen in love.

After high school, they were engaged. Married. I was born. Our family from that point on as close as a family could be. Jokes and teasing were the norm; so were morning and bedtime hugs. Mom and Dad — two crazy lovebirds, an inseparable team.

So when mom died suddenly in 2011 — a heart attack with no warning — I was devastated. But for Dad the pain was unbearable. He plunged into an abyss. He lived in void. Mom was his life. He was lost. READ MORE 

Skull ☠Kickers Dad

“What interests me? What interests you, my friend.”

—Greg Hague


Today’s story is contributed by Jim Zub.

My Dad wasn’t into comic books when I was young. But he knew my brother and I were crazy about them.
Skull-Kickers Comic Books

Jim’s dad, Joe Zubkavich

It felt like every waking moment was a cavalcade of reading, collecting and nonstop chatter about our favorite characters. He’d bring us along when he went downtown once or twice a month. My brother and I would immediately go to the comic book shop.

I don’t actually ever recall Dad going into the store with us. He’d run his errands and then wait for us outside. He didn’t “get” the comic book thing, didn’t have any interest, and I think staying away from the store kept us from asking him for extra money.

Dad never bought comics for my brother and me. We used the money we earned. And, Dad had zero knowledge of the ins and outs of four-color fandom beyond the occasional episode of Batman or the Incredible Hulk on TV. READ MORE 

Thank God He Picked Me

“If you have one true friend you have more than your share.”

—Thomas Fuller


by Greg Hague

1971. I was a college grad with a dream. Clarence Darrow. Silver tongue. Courtroom master. So off to law school I went in Washington D.C. An attorney. That would be me.

First day. First class. The professor’s first words? “Look at the person to your left, and then to your right… one of you won’t make it past the first year.”

friends then

Bob and Greg then.

I looked to my right — there sat Bob looking at me. No doubt we were both thinking the same. At the end of semester, who would remain?

A liberal, bold, outspoken kid from New York. A far cry from conservative, Catholic, Republican me. I soon learned most of my classmates were from the east coast. To them, I was a bit strange. I felt the same about them.

The first week, a law student mixer was planned. Bob was there. So was I. Someone suggested forming two informal law student softball teams. A way to blow off steam when we weren’t studying to avoid flunking out. READ MORE 

Shepherd or Sheep?

“A truly strong person does not need the approval of others any more than a lion needs the approval of sheep.”

—Vernon Howard


Today’s story is contributed by Katie Landon.

My sophomore year in high school. I forget what theater. I forget what movie. But I will never forget what Dad did that day.

sheperd or sheep

Katie and her dad, showing off creations from the Indian Princesses summer camp they attended in Dallas

A group of people were standing in queue, waiting to buy tickets. I instinctively looked for the back of the line and proceeded that way. But Dad? He walked right around them!

I paused for a second, figuring he would see, come back, and join me in line. But Dad gave me a wave and marched on. I reluctantly followed. I could feel the scowls. The accusatory stares. Line standers glaring at us with condemning eyes as we passed. So embarrassing. READ MORE 

The Nerd in My Class

“My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”

—Dalai Lama


Today’s story is contributed by Elizabeth Parsons

I was one of the cool kids growing up. No prom queen. No belle of the ball. But no reject either.

The nerd in the class? R.J. “Booger-face”, “Dork-dude”. Gangly, mangy and awkward — R.J. was fodder for bullies.

He had few friends. His family was poor. He couldn’t afford the Chuck Taylors, Polo Ts, and Sebagos… the trendy “icons of cool” the rest of us wore.

nerd

Liz and her brother Daniel

Teasing R.J. became the unofficial school sport. When he wasn’t the object of jokes, he was completely ignored.

I felt sorry for R.J., and was routinely polite. But I didn’t befriend him, I’m ashamed to say. Having a nerd as a friend would have been social suicide… too much for image-conscious me.

At the time, I was about to turn twelve. There were 32 kids in my class. On the invite list for my twelfth birthday party, only 28. Everyone minus R.J. and a few other “losers.”

Dad asked to see the list. “Who’s missing?” he asked (though I suspect he already knew). The nerds, I thought to myself. “Tina, Jamie, Juan, and R.J.,” I confessed. READ MORE