Growing Up in Round Knob Canyon - Have I Ever Told You About the Time my Dad Found Beer in my Trunk?

I received some pretty positive feedback from friends yesterday on the piece I wrote in Mom's blog ..
and I had a couple of folks tell me they'd like more ... 
so off we go ... 


Have I Ever Told You About the Time my Dad Found Beer in my Trunk?


As I mentioned yesterday in my guest post, my folks don't drink ... therefore, liquor is not

allowed in their house or on their property.  Not when you live there, not when you're visiting ... it's just not allowed.


I lived there as a 21 year old ... and occasionally I had a drink.  I wasn't a big drinker, but when you're 21 and just learning to drink you have no idea what you're doing so sometimes you're a big drinker before you mean to be ... 


Just a tad before I was 21 I went on a picnic one afternoon with a fellow whom I'll call Mr. Trump, in that he went on to be a local businessman... In preparation for this picnic, I had an older friend to pick up a 6-pack of Bud Light which I iced down in a cooler I borrowed from my dad's workshop... (Mistake #1 if you happen to be taking notes...) 


So aaaaanywho, I went on the picnic with Mr. Trump and we had a divine afternoon.  There were a couple of beers left and if I'm not mistaken he took them with him... he put his empties in the cooler and I suuuuure did intend to throw them away.  I'm a hippy now and I was a hippy then ... no littering ... and boy did I pay dearly for that ... 


I went on about my afternoon and evening ... returning home to Round Knob Canyon probably at some unGodly hour of 10:30 or so, though I was almost 21 ... (their house, their rules - that's the way it used to be done you young whippersnappers who happen to be reading along...).  I can't recall, but I'm sure I watched some TV or read for a bit and went to bed ... lest we forget kids - there was no internet and we had to entertain ourselves... :)


I DO remember EVAH so vividly waking up the next morning...


Before I fully awakened, I could hear Dad coming up the stairs with footsteps of thunder ... taking them 2 and 3 at a time and Mom running up them quickly behind him running and chattering like a little mag-pie...  "Billy just slow down, you're gonna have a heart attack..." 


My door was at the very top of the steps, so as his first foot hit the threshold of the door and he said, "I'm not gonna have this God D*mned bull Sh*t in MY HOUSE!", I was wide awake, knew I had forgotten to throw those bottles away and he was coming for me ... and by the time I opened my eyes he was about six and a half centimeters from my face and as red as a Cardinal baseball hat with veins popping out all over his face and neck ... it seemed like his beady little green eyes were protruding from his skull by about four feet and through gritted teeth he said, 
"I got up to go fishin' and I found empty beer bottles in my cooler so I just wanted to wake you up and remind you that there's not gonna be any God D*mned liquor in this house!  Your mother and I don't do it and we're not gonna have it here, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

((though I only put the last part in 'caps', please don't think it didn't all belong in 'caps'... my dad has an odd way of screaming without screaming when he has too...I think it's the gritting teeth...)) 

Now, I've always been a negotiator ... so, though I was scared - I really wanted him to know that I didn't drink the beer.  I didn't like beer then and I don't like it now and though I'd had someone illegally buy the liquor for me, I didn't illegally drink it ... If I wasn't so high strung I could've been a hellacious lawyer :)  ... so, instead of just staying there frozen in place and saying "Yessir" like I should've, I stayed there frozen in place and said, "Yes I understand, but I didn't drink any of the beer...I got it for my picnic with Mr. Trump..."


Let me fill you pansy-fannied whippersnappers of today in on how it goes when you say that to an old school dad .... not well ... not well at all ... he leaned down closer into my face and said, "I don't care who drank it or who didn't... I'm telling you I don't want liquor on my property and it better never f*ckin' happen again..."


Thaaaat's when for possibly the first time in my life I said, "Yessir"...
I drop "F bombs" now like some people drop skin cells if I'm not in mixed company ... but that was not the norm at my house growing up and I knew it was time to cower down and consider myself "under his roof".

Oddly enough, I never took liquor on their property again ... nor evidence of :) 

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