Friday, November 24, 2006
Husband of the Year
My dad's secretary Nelda once gave him a rattlesnake in a jar to take home to my mother. He hated snakes, hated them, but he said, Because I love Margie so much, I'm going to put this in my truck. He tucked the snake in its glass pickle jar in the very back of the cab of his pick-up truck and drove home after work. After an abrupt stop at a red light, the jar slammed into the back of his seat and broke. He jumped out of his old green truck and put his hand on his heart. Two of his employees happened to be driving behind him and came running to his aid, thinking he was having a heart attack. There's a rattlesnake in my truck, my dad said. People loved my dad. Lots of people believe this about their fathers, but this is my proof. The couple coaxed a poisonous snake out of his truck and into the grass and calmed him down in the middle of a fairly crowded intersection.
He drove home and much to the disappointment of my mother, he returned without the snake. It was the perfect size, Don, she said. I could have done something with that snake in a Texas mold. Do you know where it went? Of course, the story became the stuff of legend and at his company picnic that summer, he got awarded Husband of the Year for his bravery. They made him a banner, like a Miss America sash, which he got to wear for pictures. There would be lots of sadness after these days that could have never been predicted, and everybody mentioned in this story is now dead. But in Mexico there is a belief that as long as the living still remember your name, you have not died your final death on this earth. And so I offer this story as one of the happier ones of my parents' marriage and as proof that at least for one summer, my dad, at least in Mineral Wells, Texas, was the best husband a woman could ask for.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on." - Dean Martin
Cocktail Hour
Drinking movie selection: Leaving Las Vegas
Benedictions and Maledictions
Thanks for all the wonderful Thanksgiving comments! I hope everyone is having a lovely Friday, sleeping the food/drink hangover off or shopping or just seeing where the day takes them. Happy Friday!
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6 comments:
So now lie down on the couch and let me get my pad...this snake fetish of yours comes from your mother. Tell me Miss Brooks do you keep the reptiles around your house?
Snakes nasty little creatures unless you have a rodent problem then a nest of them would come in very handy because a well fed snake is not an aggressive one but if I were to be husband of the year in that situation it would have been either because i found the snake bit it's head off or taught it to drive then I would have been the only person in america with snake for a chauffer and in a green pick up at that.
The more I hear of your moms and pops the more I wish I would have known them because they seem such perfectly rational normal people, but they say that sort of thing does skip a generation. Which in you case certainly is true.
not that they would have much cared for you keeping my company but what the hell it skipped a generation in my family as well. At least for one of us five it did.
What i don't get it did his secretary give him a snake, poisenous and pissed off as hell in the jar with the thinnest glass she could find? And how sure was he of how much his secretary really liked him?
Look ma, no hangover and no godamn store shopping...I have an old lady for that the shoppig part not the drinking, one glass of cough syrup a year is all she is allowed
peace
A wonderful piece Michelle. Well written and very sweet. I really like the picture, and the Dino quote is the best.
This is such a sweet story! Thanks for sharing this. I hope your Thanksgiving was a good one! ;)
Great story. I'll bet Dad never lived this story down for the rest of his days. Classic.
Cajun Queen,
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but
Mighty Isis
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R2 C2!
What a sweet story michelle! Love the picture too! I am woman... hear me roar! haha
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