My dad loved Old Towne Canoes. We drove up to Indianapolis to the Galleons’ second hand store to look at a couple of canoes. We ended up buying two 17 foot canoes. One had a cut out at the end so you could attach a motor but dad was a purist and we never added the motor. As boy scouts we used those canoes all the time. Over the years dad found many wonderful walks (I now realize they were wonderful not so much then). One time we walked from through the woods around Griffey Lake (actually the first water supply for the town of Bloomington Indiana). We had Phoebe with us and of course she loved water so she was in the muddy water of the small lake we found about a 1/2 mile North of Griffey. It took Lynne and I an hour to get her clean when we got home. Then we were informed that we also had to clean out the car. That took another hour. I suspect there is a life lesson in there somewhere. I still haven’t found it. But we got her clean. We got the car clean (on the 3rd or 4th attempt. When dad went into inspector general mode it was hard to get anything clean to his specification).
Later in life dad had hearing aids. It changed his approach to parties and gatherings. When I was young you would find my father in the middle of the discussion. Later because of the hearing aides he would move to the sides of the party so as not to get blasted with all the noise. Dad was a consummate story teller at parties. He could regale you with wonderful stories from his past (or from his families past). It was wonderful to sit and listen to him talk. Given the chance of course dad would take the conversation off track with a pun or wry comment.
Mom on the other hand tended more towards subtle humor. She could, like a great prize fighter, land the one punch that ended the fight on occasion but her primary weapon was the use of subtly in humor. She also loved to use colorful names for people. As a child I was always amazed at the colorful (not rude) names my grandfather used to address other drivers. Cement Head, bubble brain were a few of them. Mom would do the same thing. At some point along the way she picked up the phrase “Turkey Buzzard.” Depending on the tone in her voice when the TB was uttered you knew if you were in trouble, or had simply made her stop and think. The first one meant move away quickly, the second one meant you had entertained her but not enough to make mom laugh.
.your loving son…