Thank all of you for coming out today to help us celebrate my Dad's 80th birthday. Most of you here know my father and I'm sure you have had your own unique and memorable experiences. If anyone wants to share any stories or say a few words, I'm sure our friendly DJ would be happy to lend you the microphone. In the meantime, I'll tell you a few of my stories....
Since we're celebrating his birthday today, I'll start right here. Through the years, finding a birthday gift for my Dad was always an adventure. He's one of those guys who "never needs anything". I would always do my best to find the perfect gift but somehow, I always seemed to miss the mark. One time, I bought him a nice North Carolina Tarheels hat. I figured, he's from Carolina, it makes sense.....Anyway, after a couple of weeks, I notice that he's not wearing the cap anymore. I asked him what happened to it. He said, "I took it off because I got tired of people asking me who won the game. How the hell do I know who won the game? I don't even watch basketball!"
Another time, I bought him one of those expensive Polo shirts. But I eventually wound up taking it back NOT because it was the wrong size or color, but because it didn't have a pocket.You see, years ago, my Dad used to smoke. And he liked to store his pack of Winstons in his shirt pocket. If you look at some old family photos, my Dad is easy to find. He's the guy with the rectangular nipple...
When Dad finally gave up smoking, we were all happy. But I was especially happy. You see, I used to work with my Dad. And we would usually ride to work together. On our daily commute, Dad would smoke what seemed like half the tobacco in North Carolina. As the cab of the truck filled with smoke, I would hang my head halfway out of the window. Even though it was sometimes 10 degrees outside, I didn't care. I would often get strange looks from other drivers as they saw my frostbitten nose hanging out of the passenger side window. Eventually, my Dad would tell me to wind up the window because I was letting all of the heat out. By the time we got to the job site, I would stumble out of the truck, gasping for breath and rubbing my bloodshot eyes. Then, my Dad would look at me and say, "You know, you shouldn't go out partying when you've gotta work the next day."
There were other adventures too. One time, we were building a deck. We reached a point where we needed more wood, so I took the pick-up truck and headed up to the lumber store. I loaded up the bed with a stack of pressure treated wood. Now, the wood was 10 or 12 feet long, so I had to put the tailgate down. Keep in mind that my Dad's truck had one of those hard plastic bed liners. Well, I leave the lumber yard and start to make a left turn onto Crain Hwy. As I begin to accelerate, the lumber slips out of the truck bed and spills across both lanes of the highway. I get out of the truck and start to pick up the scattered boards and load them back into the truck. Luckily, some of the other stranded motorists got out and helped me. I guess they didn't have much of a choice since I had the whole highway shutdown. When I finally get back to the job site, my Dad says, "What the hell took you so long."
I just told him that there was a traffic jam.........I knew if I told him the truth, I would get an earful. You see, my Dad was way too smart these type of things happen to him.
Well, not long afterwards, (and I wasn't there this time), Dad tells me that he himself spilled a load of lumber all over the road. Trying my best to keep a straight face, I said, "Are you serious? How does something like that happen?" Then, I told him about my experience and we both laughed about it.
Back in the day, one of my Dad's favorite weekend activities has dabbling in flea markets and yard sales. When I was a kid, he used to take me along. I was always impressed with the way he would wheel and deal with the different vendors. He would always get things for the lowest possible price. He taught me that everything is negotiable. So, one day I walk into the 7-11 and the lady rings up my Big Gulp and Snickers bar, She tells me that it's going to be $1.49. I rub my chin and tell her, "I'll tell you what. Make it an even dollar, and we've got a deal!" Needless to say, I didn't inherit my dad's negotiating skills.....
In recent years, Dad had pretty much shelved his flea market activities to focus more time on building his lawn mower empire. On any given day, you can catch my father in his garage tweaking carburetors and breathing new life new into old lawn mowers. In the spring time, people are constantly stopping by to see the Lawnmower Man. One time, I stopped by to visit my parents and my Dad wasn't home. There was a knock at the front door, so I went to answer it. I greeted the two men standing in the front yard. They said, "We're here to see the Lawnmower Man." It reminded my of the scene where Dorothy and the gang finally arrive in Oz and they ask to see the Wizard.
Anyway, I explained that he wasn't home. They asked if I was his son. I said that I was. The next thing I know these guys are shaking my hand and telling me about the famous Lawnmower Man. It turns out that my Dad is Brooklyn's biggest celebrity since the $99 Dollar Down Man. Who knew?
Sometimes, my parents will have a house full of people and the door bell will ring. My Dad will shake his head and say, "I'll bet it's somebody wanting a damn lawnmower. I can't get a minute's worth of peace!" You think your life is tough? Try living the life of a lawnmower man.......
Now, if you've ever had an argument with my father, you know that you can't possibly win. I remember having an argument one time. I think we were talking about who we thought was the best baseball player. We went back and forth arguing our points. And as my Dad's blood reached a boiling point, I said, "It's just my opinion." He told me that I was entitled to my opinion. But I was still wrong. You see what I mean?
We probably have a lot of Baltimore Ravens fans in here. Well, my Dad's not one of them. If you want to get him fired up, just mention how awesome the Ravens are. Or if you want to watch him turn red and see steam come out of his ears, just mention Ray Lewis. This will usually result in him storming into the kitchen where he'll grab his canister full of news clippings. He'll hand you each clipping and say, "Here, go ahead and read this and tell me what you think."
One time, I said, "Dad, this is an opinion piece." He replied, "It doesn't matter, it's the truth!" Like I said, you're not winning any arguments with him.
Let me give you this piece of advice......If you ever get into an argument with my father and you feel that you're backed into a corner, just start talking about lawn mowers.
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On a serious note......
As a young man, my Dad left the tobacco farms of North Carolina for the city life of Baltimore. He began a career as a carpenter and he soon discovered that he a natural talent for the trade. I worked with him on many projects through the years. And I was always amazed at his ability to transform a stack of lumber into an impressive looking deck or a beautiful house. He took pride in what he did and it always showed in his work.
Through the years, I learned a lot of things from my father. He taught me the normal father-son things but he also taught me many life lessons. He taught me the value of a dollar and how to step up and take responsibility. He also taught me respect and ultimately how to be a good father myself. In a nutshell, he taught me how to be a decent man. For that, I will always be grateful.
Dad, you're a good man. And all of the people here today should show you how fondly you're thought of.. We all love you and wish you many more happy years. Happy birthday......
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