Last night we went to my parents' house for dinner, where we dined on a giant baked ziti (courtesy of the lovely and talented MamaDaisy). While we were eating, my dad decided to tell us the story of Charlie Powell and the toboggan*.
Apparently when my dad was a kid in the fifties, one could play Games of Doom pretty much anytime one felt so inclined. Which is how my father and his three brothers all made a plan to get on a toboggan behind the unwitting Charlie Powell (why he got to steer we'll never know), after making a pact not to jump off NO MATTER WHAT.
Poor Charlie.
Every single Ashley boy bailed out before the first turn, so when Charlie yelled, "LEAN!" there was no one there to lean with him. He veered wildly off course, into the forest, and ultimately into a tree. The kid broke his arm, but all the other boys had to offer was, "Charlie! You broke the toboggan!"
Do you see now why men could be considered space aliens? WHO DOES THAT?!
I'm assuming my father was the leader of the pack. As the oldest Ashley brother, I'm sure the others all looked to him for guidance and inspiration. The Ashley brothers had a reputation in their town, and were still getting blamed for things FOUR YEARS after they'd all grown up and moved away.
At the tender age of four (or maybe six, my dad is fuzzy on the details), a state trooper showed up at the door of the Ashley residence looking for Bobby Ashley. My father, who is Bobby Ashley, staunchly denied any knowledge of such a person and slammed the door in the trooper's face. Apparently, little Bobby had thrown some rocks through some windows.
Here's the thing: I didn't know any of these stories. The man who raised me is a retired Navy Master Chief and self-proclaimed Safety Officer, a man who would not let us step off the edge of the sidewalk without looking 47 times for cars, and who is constantly watching for danger in all directions. I remember once, as a kid, going into a restaurant with my father and there being some dispute about who would sit where at the table. My dad needs to sit where he can see the door--in case of an attack, he likes to be the first one to hit the floor. Rumor has it that the man was wearing a pistol on his ankle at my wedding.
Today is my dad's birthday. He's 64. I'd say, knowing what I now know about those Ashley boys, he's lucky to be alive (incidentally, so are his three brothers). My children know him as The Cheez, and that's been another revelation. The Cheez is a soft touch, and has the biggest movie collection in town. Also, he has an awesome dinosaur and soldier collection, in case you ever want to play.
What I'm trying to say is this: Happy Birthday, Dad! I hope we have another thirty years for you to share your stories. Maybe there's more Ashley blood flowing in my children than I previously knew.
Today is also my nephew Isaac's birthday. He's 4. Apparently he's my biggest fan, but all he ever says to me in person is, "Did you rip one? Because I smell something!" Watch it, kid, I've got your number. And I mean that in the nicest possible aunt-iest kind of way.
*The story of Charlie Powell and the toboggan inspired Gus to tell the following story: "When I was 2 1/2, I was playing in the backyard and I found some quicksand, and I fell in, and my Mom didn't see me, because she was too busy talking to Judy, so my Dad pulled me out and saved the day!"
That was the gist of it, anyway. WHY does Dashing Husband get to be the hero?! So. Unfair.
ooh, i get to appear twice in one post -- woohoo! i have yet to eat my own tray of ziti since my oven is on the fritz. takeout pizza, here i come.
Happy Birthday Master Cheez! and Happy Birthday to the soon-to-be-big-brother Isaac!
Posted by: mamadaisy | February 25, 2008 at 09:25 PM
Your father and mine should get together and cause havoc!
They can also fight as to who sits in the corner for my dad will take you out for that seat. something about NAM
Posted by: morgan | February 26, 2008 at 10:39 AM
Well said and it's all true; because fairy tales start with "Once upon a time" and sea stories start with "This is no sh*#."
Posted by: Cheez | February 26, 2008 at 10:40 AM
Your father and mine should get together and cause havoc!
They can also fight as to who sits in the corner for my dad will take you out for that seat. something about NAM
Posted by: morgan | February 26, 2008 at 10:59 AM
hahaha. cause she was talking to judy!
bad mama!!! baaaaad mamas!
(i am big fan of the wine playdate)
Posted by: gwendomama | February 26, 2008 at 01:37 PM