The Prodigal Son

Mom's Dad told me once that he went to the initial day of first grade and didn't like it so he never went back to school. He was a treasured memory of the ranch hand's childhood, but (bless his soul) he could not read or write one lick.

The ranch hand's Dad had his own challenges and joined Paphu in not knowing "a" from "z".

Then comes the prodigal son.

Sometimes ya wonder if a vacuum on one side creates a tidal pool (or tsunami) on the other?

This ole fat boy been suckin' in ed-u-ma-ca-tion for nigh on 1957 til present day (53 years for the math majors in the crowd).

Dad used to say his onliest son must be the dumest sum-bitch on earth for schoolin' for so long? Amongst friends, I confess to being embarassed and never could even fathom an answer to Dad's perpetual comment????

After three college degrees, four professional certifications, and a P-H-D from the school of hard knocks (including kicking natural downhome ass as a member of the constabulary in every venue imaginable.....and having same done to ones self in every major city in Texas) , one would begin to think Dad had an extremely valid point?

Bottom line: The gospel of Luke tells us that a father counsels his son, "You are always with me and everything I have is yours" (Luke 15-32)

I can think of no finer tribute to my forefathers than gratitude for their part in making me what I am and to feel incredible gratitude for their contribution to who I am...