Something to do.

As some of you may know, I grew up in the quaint little town of McCook in Nebraska.  As others of you may know, the word quaint, when you are too young to drive, often means having nothing to do.

As ingenious as I was, I was often able to come up with remedies for this condition.

Tonight, since it was Father's Day, I thought it would be appropriate to inflict some memories of my younger days in this quaint little town on my children.

I told them how I used to ride my brother's motorcycle around town from time to time, during this pre-car, pre-drivers license stage and how I was threatened by the 20's plus year old boy friend of a girl I knew when I was maybe 13 or 14. Yes, he was a loser. But at least he had his own motorcycle and motorcycle license.

And, I told them about when Russ' Dad lived in the second floor apartment across the street from the Ben Franklin store. The Ben Franklin side of the street also had a phone booth with a pay phone. Remember those things!

I think one of the best forms of entertainment we found in that town was to go find the number to that phone, then wait for unsuspecting locals to walk by and call them up. I really don't think anyone ever figured out we were right across the street from them.

Yes, this counted as entertainment for 13 year old boys in a small town.

And yes, if you are lucky I will tell you about the haunted mansion that ended up causing two consecutive owners to kill themselves. It is currently for sale, if you are interested. Over 5,000 square feet, and all of them guaranteed to be haunted.

Happy Fathers Day!