I’m not even sure how it began but The Finlander and I met out in the alley for what I’m guessing was a 60 yard foot race. I was 15 or 16 and in my prime, he would have been 43 and had been driving a logging truck for years. (Turns out being in the rigging under your own dad doesn’t work out, oops) You know the rest of the story, it wasn’t even close. What sucks is I have to hear this story once a year when my uncle shows up. He says “you idiot, that man was the fastest thing his high school has ever seen!” That would have been good information prior. Humble bastard.
That sounds like a true story... My dad was a wee little lad. I was bigger than him when I was thirteen. I never knew he could fight, till I pissed him off one day......aka, poke the bear. He was one of the original Greasers, back when they still called them scooters..... he loved his Indian. Long story short, got my ass kicked and wondered what happened.... good lesson for a knot-headed teen.
Smarted off to mine once after coming home late. I swear to God I never even saw him move, just standing one minute and on my ass the next. Marine during Korea and truck driver for 32 years after.
I smarted off to my Dad once , around the age of 17,, sitting at the kitchen table,, it was one of those picnic style tables , pretty wide. I said something,, I'm not even sure i finished saying it,, and the all of a sudden I saw this blinding flash of light , like a welding arc ,, then a throbbing sensation on the side of my head ,,, and like you Tempstar ,, I never saw him move ,, I didn't know his arm was long enough to reach across the table. From then on ,, I kept a little more distance between us,, and my mouth shut .
It’s tough watching Pops decline ever-so slightly. He’s not only the Original Prepper but has defied modern medicine for most of his life. I tell him when he actually goes now that “you should be teaching the physicians” instead of getting treated.
My late Father had prostate cancer at one point. He got the radioactive beads implanted, and it was stopped. I once told him when he died, he'd have to be buried as "radioactive waste". Got a snide look from him. So eventually he does die, and as per his wishes had him cremated. I had told the crematorium director of those beads. No problem.
My dad has taught me to build, raise gardens and animals.... and to work hard. His days are numbered.... but he has left a legacy to be proud of.
i started working in the woods at 9 my first job was on the other end of a misery whip or called a swede fiddle. an 8 foot hand saw with big teeth. my dad was on the other end we hand split cedar shakes i packed out what was called boards for a penny apiece. if i packed out 250 in a day i made 2.50. i was taught trap hunt fish pick wild greens and mushrooms. work hard really no choice was the hunter for the family of 8. we pretty much lived off the land.
