Gut Rumbles

November 20, 2009

Father's Day

Originally published June 19, 2004

I received a very nice email from my daughter this morning. She's coming to Savannah to visit next month and I look forward to seeing her (tote that pistol I gave you along on your trip--- it's always better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it). Samantha has done a lot of growing up in the past few years. She is a beautiful young woman and I am proud of her.

I don't believe that I'll see or hear from Quinton tomorrow. Jennifer has had him pretty much hermetically-sealed away from me since February. Got-dam a court system that allows a woman to pick up the phone and place a warrant on my ass without producing ANY evidence of MY malfeasance. She doesn't have to prove any guilt on my part; I have to prove my innocence. That's just fucked-up, but she's done it three times to me now.

I miss my boy. Jack came over to visit yesterday and pestered me for about an hour. I like being pestered by Jack. He's a good kid and he wanted to know when Quinton was coming back to my house. I told him that I didn't know, but I was working on it.

"Mr. Rob, me and Quinton need to get back to our point of origin," Jack said.

I was amused. "Exactly WHAT is your 'point of origin,' Jack?"

"Quinton's room, where we played all the time. I want to do that again. Besides, you haven't cooked bacon and eggs for us in a long time."

No, I haven't, and I miss doing it. Those two little farts ate like bush-hogs when they visited the Crackerbox and I enjoyed filling their bellies. I didn't know about the "point of origin" thing, but I suspect that Jack picked up that term from Quinton. It sounds like something my boy would say.

I never spoke baby-talk to Quinton when he was waddling around in diapers and he has an impressive vocabulary for a ten year-old. I love that boy. I don't recall my father ever hugging me or telling me that he loved me. Kentucky coal miners just didn't do that kind of thing. I KNEW that he loved me, but he wasn't really demonstrative about it.

Tomorrow, I want to hug my boy and tell him that I love him.

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