Meet Mod Podge Keith – my dad. When I was born, my parents had just moved from a communal farm they owned with a few other couples (picture A = hippie dad). Just so you know, it wasn’t THAT kind of a communal farm (tee hee). Shortly after that, my dad got a job with UPS, where he worked for over 30 years (picture B = corporate dad). He supported five children – I’m the oldest with four younger brothers – for many years, and that couldn’t have been easy all the time. Thanks, dad.
True dad story: I have fond memories of our house on NE 166th Lane in Woodinville, WA. I also remember riding bikes with my brothers and neighborhood kids on 154th Ave NE nearby – it was a great place to ride because it was so L-O-N-G and straight. For the many of us who were learning to ride two-wheelers, it was a nice runway on which to practice. Apparently it was also a nice runway for a teenager with a VW Bug to terrorize us. I remember riding around, kinda wobbly on my two wheels, when I’d hear the sound and my heart would start racing. The unmuffled growl of that horrible car. Without warning this kid would come speeding down 154th Ave, causing all of us to ride into the ditches on the side of the road so we wouldn’t get hit.
MAJORLY dangerous, right?
So my dad catches wind of the situation and decides to do something about it. VW Bug comes back one day for a terror run, except this time my dad is out there. VW charged down the street, and dad stepped out in front of it. The car came to a screeching halt! A teenager got out of his car with a cigarette between his lips and walked toward my dad. This is the cool part. Dad grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth and put it out IN HIS HAND. He said some things I can’t repeat on this blog (so I’m told) and the teenager never came back again. Later the car ended up in a watery grave in a nearby pond. Did my dad have something to do with that? I’ll never know.
Love you, dad.