For the sound of water pouring into a metal container — sounds like a cow peeing on a flat rock. When we heard a woodpecker in a nearby tree — bet that makes his pecker sore. For a freezing winter day — colder than a well digger’s ass in the Klondikes. When one of my aunts was late — must have crashed her broom. In response to a silly question, like, do you want a cold beer — is a pigs ass pork? When my pants were too short — expecting a flood are ya?

My parents were the kind of people who could make almost anything a party, or at least an adventure. In my family we laughed our way through adversity, joked about some of the serious stuff and clowned our way through disappointments. We of course were respectful, when necessary, like funerals. But, I do remember nearly choking when some of my grandfather’s drinking buddies showed up sobbing loudly in the back of the church. My mom was not pleased, but I still think that was funny as hell.

Dad was a representative for the carpenters’ union, and I recall a time when there was a strike where some of the workers walking the picket line scattered a few nails where they shouldn’t have and the line became contentious. Dad and some others got all the wives together and organized daily picnics at the site where the women brought food and their kids for the day. Seems like the guys didn’t want to show out with their families watching. His version of making lemonade out of lemons.

I am thinking that if every child could grow up like I did we would have a world full of people who know how to make themselves happy when life tries to kick your ass.