My dad

A little while ago, my father turned 70.  18 months ago to be exact.  My mother asked me to write a little something about this.  That was all the direction I had.  Well, I let it slip my mind and got busy with work and family and I didn't get around to doing it.  Well, I started it, but never finished it.  I will, I know, but for now, I want to share a story about my dad that just popped into my head.

When I was a kid, I loved wrestling.  Not the fireworks shooting WWE stuff that is on Monday nights nowadays, but rather the rough and tough Mid South wrestling and WCCW that we used to have here in Houston on Saturday nights at the Sam Houston Coliseum. 

I would watch every weekend, buy all the books and magazines I could find, buy all toys, and attend matches on special occasions.  Some of my favorites were Hacksaw Jim Duggan, Jake the Snake, The Rock N Roll Express, and the Von Erichs. 

In 1985, I was 9 years old.  Pizza Inn ran a promotion that if you buy a pizza, you get a free poster of the Von Erichs.  I knew I just had to have those posters.  My dad took me up to Pizza Inn on a Sunday night to obtain my prize.  When we got there, I was ecstatic.  They had the posters mounted up on the wall for all to see and to, no doubt, encourage you to buy a pizza.  My dad ordered the pizza and I instructed him to ask about the posters.  "I am sorry, but we are all out of posters," the man's voice said as I tried to hold back tears.  I remember trying to take disappointment like a grown up, but I have no recollection if I was successful or not.  I slunk off to the corner of the restaurant to be alone while my father waited for the pizza.  I was floored.  I was devastated.  I watched as my father said something to the man behind the counter, who nodded.  I then watched as that man went and got a ladder and began to remove the poster that had been hanging on the wall.  I wiped my tears away and started grinning when they rolled up the poster and handed it to me.  To this day, I don't know what my dad said to the man behind the counter, or if he even remembers this event happening.  I don't remember if I even said thank you to my dad.  I don't have that poster any more, and I am positive that even if I did, I wouldn't want it hanging up in my house.  But I will always have the memory of my dad doing this for me.