Not a big deal but when I went to work at the Docks when I was 18 I had a nickname.
My dad had worked there for like 20 years or something and his nickname was froggie.
I waltzed in there in February of 1982 and someone said, "Hey tadpole!"
How funny is that?? my dad is froggie (because of his glasses and i am tadpole because of my dad-and
My dad also chewed a whole group of guys out for smoking weed-he wasnt sure who it was but saw a
whole group of guys exiting a hatch and when he went over he smelled a distinct smell. he wasn;t sure who it was but was pretty
sure it was all of them. Nobody was fired but it was like the 2nd time in my entire life I ever heard my dad say the 'f' word.
And no, i was not one of the ones to get caught -thank God If dad would have caught me he would have
been pissed beyond belief. Thank heavens I was very careful;)
The Story of Dad and the Red Paint
Dad was painting a table in, oh lets see, 1972ish while drinking a 'few' National bohs. For
some reason he was painting this little, narrow, table red. He was doing a fine job and we were all doing whatever.
Somewhere along the line it all went to crap.
Dad somehow dropped the bucket of red paint, and when he did, the paint splashed out of the
can and somehow flew up into his face. My Mom and I, and I guess my brother, started laughing. I can't remember if Aunt
June was over at the time (she lived next door) or if she heard the commotion (Dad flipping out) and came over, but anywho,
after the paint spashed up into Dad's face, and we all started laughing, because it is a funny sight when someone's face is
covered with red paint, so you can imagine how we howled when Dad took off his glasses and he looked kinda like a big
bug, with a totally red face and big white eyes. When Dad took off his glasses and he had a completely red face and two
big white spots where his glasses were, all control went out the window (along with the red table).
I remember Dad flipping out. He opened the door, cursing the whole time, while trying to suppress
the smile that would surface occasionally, and probably pissed off all the more because he wanted to be mad that we were laughing,
yet he saw the humor in it and he couldn't stop the smile. But he opened the door and threw the table out in the yard, furiously,
and I think it was raining. He went in and cleaned his face while Mom laughed uncontrollably, along with me, Aunt June,
I think Uncle George was there too, and Mike.
I remember Grandad coming out and wanting to know if Dad had cracked and was beating
Mom up, but I guess when Mom came to the door in a fit of laughter, I guess Grandpop figured that all was well (just for the
record my dad never hit any of us. I know this should be expected, but since I said that Grandpop was questioning it I had