Y’all, I’ve said this time and time again. But I had the very best dad. He was attentive, loving, over-the-top. I loved that man more than he will ever know. And he loved us girls so very much.
He didn’t just want kids to say he had kids. When we were little, long before vinyl decals for your back glass was en vogue, he had our names painted on the side of his truck. He had us in every parade around.
When I was little, on his day off, I didn’t go to day care…No. He’d haul me to Cedar Key or wherever he was off to that day. In fact, as I sit typing this, I can almost smell the air freshener in his old truck. On every jaunt we made to Cedar Key when I was little, he’d stop at Raymond’s in Rosewood, and get me a bag of Funyuns, a Root beer, and a lollipop. Ol’ Raymond was one of my dad’s friends. And it never failed, those pickled pigs feet in a jar would always make me cringe.
Dad always saved up his time throughout the year, and would always take it during our Christmas break. During that break, he would take us to different State Parks almost daily. Dad, being a Park Ranger, wanted us to see all of it.
When I say he was over-the-top…he was over the top. He bought me a Shriner’s car with “Punky’s Putt-Putt” painted on the side the Christmas after I turned 2. Suitable gift. Lol. I wasn’t able to drive that thing confidently until I was 7 or 8. Even then, it was hit or miss. After seeing how much I enjoyed the wooden playground at Payne’s Prairie, he went against my mama’s will (who had desperately wanted a circle drive), and completely engulfed our front yard with a huge wooden playground…complete with the balance beam (2-levels), shaking bridge, 2-story fort, fireman’s pole, and swing set. When I was learning about Native Americans in school, he made me a huge teepee in the front yard.
You know…it’s funny, though…the things that once embarrassed you about your parents as kids become some of the fondest memories that you have of them as adults. For my daddy, I will always remember him in his overalls. In my younger days, I thought they made him look like a hillbilly. Now, that will forever be the image I hold in my heart. There is nothing sweeter. I just know he's parading through the streets of gold in his Liberty overalls and his brogans.
He didn’t just want kids to say he had kids. When we were little, long before vinyl decals for your back glass was en vogue, he had our names painted on the side of his truck. He had us in every parade around.
When I was little, on his day off, I didn’t go to day care…No. He’d haul me to Cedar Key or wherever he was off to that day. In fact, as I sit typing this, I can almost smell the air freshener in his old truck. On every jaunt we made to Cedar Key when I was little, he’d stop at Raymond’s in Rosewood, and get me a bag of Funyuns, a Root beer, and a lollipop. Ol’ Raymond was one of my dad’s friends. And it never failed, those pickled pigs feet in a jar would always make me cringe.
Dad always saved up his time throughout the year, and would always take it during our Christmas break. During that break, he would take us to different State Parks almost daily. Dad, being a Park Ranger, wanted us to see all of it.
When I say he was over-the-top…he was over the top. He bought me a Shriner’s car with “Punky’s Putt-Putt” painted on the side the Christmas after I turned 2. Suitable gift. Lol. I wasn’t able to drive that thing confidently until I was 7 or 8. Even then, it was hit or miss. After seeing how much I enjoyed the wooden playground at Payne’s Prairie, he went against my mama’s will (who had desperately wanted a circle drive), and completely engulfed our front yard with a huge wooden playground…complete with the balance beam (2-levels), shaking bridge, 2-story fort, fireman’s pole, and swing set. When I was learning about Native Americans in school, he made me a huge teepee in the front yard.
You know…it’s funny, though…the things that once embarrassed you about your parents as kids become some of the fondest memories that you have of them as adults. For my daddy, I will always remember him in his overalls. In my younger days, I thought they made him look like a hillbilly. Now, that will forever be the image I hold in my heart. There is nothing sweeter. I just know he's parading through the streets of gold in his Liberty overalls and his brogans.
I want to share something I wrote a three or four years ago:
As a coworker and I were talking today, the subject of overalls came up. She told me that her uncle, who was notorious for always wearing overalls, once strolled into a Cadillac dealership. Now, he had the ability to pay, in cash, for any new Cadillac that he saw fit. The dealership salesman, noting his tattered overalls, and writing him off as some penniless hillbilly, told him that he didn’t think that they had anything that he could afford. Well, he went down the road and purchased a brand new vehicle, paying cash. Needless to say, that Cadillac dealer sure did miss out on some commission.
I really liked that story, but it reminded me of one of my own. My daddy gave me an appreciation for a man in overalls. I don’t think there’s anything sweeter than a little baby boy, or a little rough and tumble boy, or an elderly man dressed in overalls. Heck, when we were little, my sister and I often wore overalls. Mama was just reminding me tonight of a pair of Hee-Haw overalls that were passed down from my cousin Billy (now in his mid-forties), down to his brother Chris, then down to Dale, Jarrod, Me then Rheba. Those Hee-Haw overalls were very loved and very, very worn. My dad, a lover of Liberty denim overalls, would wear those things everywhere. In fact, for a short while, when one or two of his pair got a little raggedy around the hem, he had Mama cut them off and make them into overall shorts. Well, thank you Jesus that phase didn’t last long. He looked awful funny sportin’ those overall shorts and brogans. It wasn’t exactly a trend that needed to take off, if you catch my drift.
My daddy once told me, when I had big dreams of a wedding, that he was going to walk me down the aisle in his overalls. At the time, I was appalled, and said “You most certainly won’t.” What I would give for that man to walk me down the aisle now. I’d even let him wear his most-favorite, tattered pair of Liberty overalls.
One thing that I will always remember about my daddy was the fact that he always made it a point to wear his overalls to church every Easter. He did this as a bit of a protest. See, while all the ladies were primpin', putting on their very finest new dress, and the men were sprucing up and putting on their Sunday best, Daddy just didn’t see the point. He always felt that it didn’t matter what you wore to the House of the Lord; just as long as you went. You didn’t have to be all gussied up to go in and worship and pray.
Well about five years ago, there it was…Easter. Mama and Rheba were done up, and there dad was…walking into church in his overalls. Behind him were a group of young ladies. One of the girls said “Can you believe what that man has on??” Then they all started snickering. Well that just grated Daddy’s nerves. I remember him coming home telling me all about it, as we had driven separately.
“That girl hurt my feelings!... It doesn’t matter what you wear to church!... You don’t have to be dressed all snazzy to pray!...”
And then he continued with, “And that girl’s sittin’ there talking about my overalls…Look at her! She’s so ugly, you’d have to tie a damn pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her!”
Real nice coming from a man that just got out of church, right? I sure did love that man.
Lawsy, I do love a man in overalls.
As a coworker and I were talking today, the subject of overalls came up. She told me that her uncle, who was notorious for always wearing overalls, once strolled into a Cadillac dealership. Now, he had the ability to pay, in cash, for any new Cadillac that he saw fit. The dealership salesman, noting his tattered overalls, and writing him off as some penniless hillbilly, told him that he didn’t think that they had anything that he could afford. Well, he went down the road and purchased a brand new vehicle, paying cash. Needless to say, that Cadillac dealer sure did miss out on some commission.
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| Y'all guessed correctly. There's no denying those big brown eyes. This would be me, donning my overalls. |
My daddy once told me, when I had big dreams of a wedding, that he was going to walk me down the aisle in his overalls. At the time, I was appalled, and said “You most certainly won’t.” What I would give for that man to walk me down the aisle now. I’d even let him wear his most-favorite, tattered pair of Liberty overalls.
One thing that I will always remember about my daddy was the fact that he always made it a point to wear his overalls to church every Easter. He did this as a bit of a protest. See, while all the ladies were primpin', putting on their very finest new dress, and the men were sprucing up and putting on their Sunday best, Daddy just didn’t see the point. He always felt that it didn’t matter what you wore to the House of the Lord; just as long as you went. You didn’t have to be all gussied up to go in and worship and pray.
Well about five years ago, there it was…Easter. Mama and Rheba were done up, and there dad was…walking into church in his overalls. Behind him were a group of young ladies. One of the girls said “Can you believe what that man has on??” Then they all started snickering. Well that just grated Daddy’s nerves. I remember him coming home telling me all about it, as we had driven separately.
“That girl hurt my feelings!... It doesn’t matter what you wear to church!... You don’t have to be dressed all snazzy to pray!...”
And then he continued with, “And that girl’s sittin’ there talking about my overalls…Look at her! She’s so ugly, you’d have to tie a damn pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her!”
Real nice coming from a man that just got out of church, right? I sure did love that man.
Lawsy, I do love a man in overalls.
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