Friday, August 3, 2012

Parents and Theft

I once went to dinner and a movie with my parents while I was in college. They had driven up from Grove, 70 miles, to visit me in Tulsa. We had a good time and enjoyed the film, but when we returned to the truck, Dad's tool box was missing. He usually put buckets of tools in the cab when in "the city", so if they stole the box itself, he was only out $50. He hadn't done that this time.

Well, my Mom flipped. She was furious. My dad remained calm, likely because I was there, and they had come up to treat me to a night out -- he didn't want to spoil the mood. Not to mention that my education would help me work with my mind, not my back, and make more money than he ever made. He didn't want the theft to be about money either.

This morning, talking to co-workers about the woes of old buildings and shitty contractors in NYC, I not only realized that my Dad is an excellent craftsman who is sought after by foremen, contractors and architects who know their stuff, I also realized how much that stupid date-night cost him and my mom. What does one do without descent parents?

Paul and Dawne Erickson, ca 1970s.


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