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Father’s day starts at my favorite local diner well it’s just like most places of this nature. Breakfast any time pre-made dishes most of which come with one of three things toast, fries or home fries! Food that I will eat excessively till I begin to sway like a lion that has eaten too much and is in need of a shady tree. My Father being a pro of American eatery is unphased by the huge amounts of wheat, butter, eggs, ham, potatoes, onions, coffee and cheese consumed.
After staging a fake accidental bench crashing in front of the diner we head back to my folks place. A magical place because anywhere you grow up is magical, in a way that borders on the morbid. I can recount a small sampling of the countless ways I foiled death while being in my old home.

Examples include:
1. Creating a full scale city out of card board and filling each building with powder from dissected fireworks. Lighting this city on fire and pretend to be a giant monster destroying it! (I watched just about every toho film as a youth) Smog monster I think I was?
2. Played with Styrofoam and Perchloroethylene on my front stoop. I would watch as the Styrofoam made contact with it and see it disappear! (Perchloroethylene is a dangerous cleaning chemical not for play)
3. Me and my bro would sell explosives lemonade style, with colorful names like Jack, M80 and Guerrilla. One of these purchases ended with a giant mushroom cloud that was caused when 2 brave children dropped a M80 in a bucket of gasoline.
4. Many afternoons spent shooting BB guns complete with painful ricochet! (Eat your heart out plastic ammo only copper or lead pellets for us!)
5. Culling the rat population around the chicken coup my dad created to look more like a fort. Eventually I would invite my friends to machete, shovel and bat them to into submission. (Please no animal rights posts save a Shenandoah Salamander or something they need all the help you can give them.)

Many of the animals that feature heavy in my artwork live in my backyard a place I grew up and survived. This year my folks are honored to have 2 box turtles living the backyard which they take care of but don’t cage. I call them Juice box (because she pees every time u pick her up) and Sam which is short for salmonella of course. They in a weird way represent the kindness I was shown growing up and the freedom I was given to make mistakes. The kinds of things you need to do in order to develop not stagnate.
burning_eyes dramallama pirate