Permit Proves Hard Work

My son recently turned 15 and is nearly finished with the process of obtaining his driving permit. It doesn't seem like it's been as long and arduous a process as it was for me at that age. Also, he simply doesn't seem nearly as excited about it as I was.

I had been working up toward that permit since I was six years old! My Dad used to put me on his lap and let me drive through the cemetery of the church we attended. I would tell him to gun it so I could show off my mad driving skills. Needless to say, my mad driving skills went unnoticed.

I never did understand why the cemetery drives just stopped. Perhaps it had something to do with the proximity of my grandfather's grave to the one sharp turn within the cemetery. Now that was a rough turn. And it's not like I destroyed the gravestone or the car or anything.

Regardless, there was a few years lull before I was to get behind the wheel of a car again. Before my next stint, or stunt, occurred my Dad would let me practice changing gears in the truck while HE drove. That turned out to be good timing since my next driving adventure would be behind the wheel of that same truck.

My Dad and I still laugh about that one. Actually, I suspect he laughs about it, although he pretends to not want to talk about it. He wasn't seriously hurt. He came out with only a few nicks and scrapes.

Luckily, I am a very fortunate father. My son seems to be naturally cautious and careful where I was rash and foolhardy. I don't foresee him following in my driving footsteps.

Thank goodness for that! I wouldn't want my son to get hit by a school bus being towed on the same day he gets his permit! Trust me when I tell you, it's pretty frightening.

Phillip's Practical Guide for Fathers

Being a father probably means a lot of different things to a lot of different people. One thing I can tell you for certain, though, is that, as a father, you'd better have some pretty tough feet.

I'm all about giving some solid, practical advice. Being a husband of 17 years and a father of 14 years, I have experience in this particular area of knowledge, as well as some darn tough feet!

Allow me to break it down for you, so to speak. Items come in four main categories which are immobile/breakable, immobile/unbreakable, mobile/underfoot and mobile/collision. Many sub-categories exist, of course, but these are the main ones any good father should be acutely aware of, especially when walking through a quiet, dark house.

The first category consists of any non-round object that falls to pieces when stepped upon. The danger in these items is that they can and often splinter. This creates small shards of wood or plastic which will then imbed themselves deep into those hard-to-reach areas of your foot. These often hurt, but not like the next one.

The second category, immobile/unbreakable, do not roll or move in any way, shape or form. They simply don't break, either. Instead, it's your foot that gives first and causes excruciating pain which gets proportionately worse after midnight. Lego products are a great example of this category. My son is 14 years old and I still curse Lego for making such a quality product on a regular basis.

The third category, mobile/underfoot, consists of balls, toy cars, skateboards, water puddles or any other wet, slippery surface. Fuzzy, black dogs also fall under this category. Mobile refers to the item moving underfoot and causing you to lose your balance. I've found that a category two often lies in wait nearby for you to fall upon, thus imbedding itself into your foot or other unmentionable parts of your anatomy. This, of course, depends on whether you catch your footing or just simply fall.

And now we come to our final category of mobile/collision. By nature and by themselves, they are not particularly harmful or dangerous. They are more a nuisance than anything else. Large balls, vehicles and robots don't really hurt when they roll into your ankles or legs.

Watch out, though. These often work in tandem with the others. Don't believe me? Let me give you an example.

Some years back, my five year-old's shriek of "DA-DEE!!" from the bathroom pierced the darkness and my sleep. While on my way to the bathroom, a firetruck bumped my left foot, distracted me, and caused my right foot to land in an unknown, slippery substance. My body then sailed swiftly past the bathroom and my 'ailing' son. My left foot, trying desperately to save me, came down squarely on a Lego, sending spasms of pain shooting to my brain.

While that story has a less-than-happy ending, and I won't say what I stepped in, it exemplifies how category four items often team up with the others for maximum effect.

Keep an eye on http://www.fuzzyblackdogs.blogspot.com/. Sometime soon, I may post a follow up and teach you how to deal with and prevent this problem for yourself. In the meantime, I will be figuring out how to deal with and prevent this problem for myself. Then, rest assured, I will share it with you.

One Turkey Sandwich, Please, But Hold the Glove

Accidents and mishaps just happen to me. It's not through any fault of my own, though. I'm not clumsy and I certainly don't go looking for trouble, though I did when I was much younger. Trouble is like a long, lost puppy dog that follows me around and appears when I least expect it.

Not too long ago, I ordered a Sierra Turkey at a popular sandwich franchise. I got more than I bargained for -- a Sierra Turkey & Preparation Glove Sandwich. The employees were super nice and got me a new sandwich, sans glove. At a biscuit franchise drive through, my wife and I got sweet teas. The only difference between them was that mine had a soft drink nozzle and soap in it. And then there was the killer food processor. Nine stitches and one reattached finger later, I still use kitchen knives for all my cooking needs.

Nothing, however, compared with the half of the modular home being transported that hit me. It was not long after I got married and just got a new job when it happened.

I sang The Clash songs as I blissfully drove myself to work in my truck. I was on that section of Hwy 220 in Greensboro with all the concrete bridges that stretch over the highway. To this day, I've put off the philosophical question of whether the house half that hit me was too tall, or the bridge it was being driven under was too short. Whichever it was, the two collided.

While I didn't see the actual collision, I did happen to see the effects it caused. I was right beside the house half and witnessed about 10 feet of the main beam land on my windshield. In slow motion, it bounced off my windshield and snapped the sideview mirror off the truck. I glanced in the rearview mirror to track its continual slow motion bouncing along the highway. I really freaked out when it started snowing. It seemed to take my brain hours to register that it was August and that the "snow" was insulation pouring out of the walls of the house half.

Now I'm taking these law classes at Guilford College. The classes are very informative and I'm learning a lot. Mostly, I'm learning that had I been smarter in the past, I could be a very rich person by now.