I love my dad. Tonight, he got into the Scotch and started talking about “what he used to get for Christmas.” This involved thirty minutes, over and over, of him talking about his toy.
A big tire, and a stick. He would get the big tire rolling, and then push it with a stick. On Stephenson Ave, in Savannah. It was a dirt road back then.
I nodded, and chugged down my red wine, and said, “yeah, that was rough. I had it rough. We had an Atari. Have you seen Warlords? That game was like living in the dark ages! Pitfall? Those didn’t even look like crocodiles! And vines don’t have jagged edges!” Oh, the travesty of an abused childhood!
And then I chugged more wine. Then I played a bunch of Bejeweled while he watched CSI, Criminal Minds, and Fox News. Then I got on Flickr, and found these. Guess sometimes there is a grain of truth to Cecil’s stories. . . .
And now, take a look at these brats:
Okay, just one more. . .
Yep, we had it hard. Space Invaders? Those didn’t even look like aliens!