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memories

i remember as a little kid my foster dad and i sitting behind an old junk car and smoking a corn cob pipe,i was 8 years old.thisfosterdad and i became very close though his whisky bottle was closer.i lived in an old burnt out delivery van that we had made into my room.when dad would let out smokey,the huskey,he would come and jump on my bed and wake me up.that ment time for my choirs. id get up,go to the shed and take a quick bath in the tub of water we kept there .afterwords id go get the list hed put on the wrecker and begin my choirs.i guess thats where i got my love for cars.id pull what ever needed pulled and run into the kitchen and eat what ever he had put out the night before,then clean up ,change into my school clothes and catch the bus by 800. after school id go home,finish up my choirs and wake him up.after supper wed go back to the yard and he d help me with what ever i hadnt gotten done.that man was a geniouse when it came to cars. after words hed make me study for school becouse education was important to him,hed never gone to school. on my 10 birthday he had a suprise for me when i came home.in the garage was a new craftsman tool box with all new tools.i was estatic.then he took me to the back of the shop and pulled back a canvas.there was the most beautiful thing id ever seen.a 1952 pontiac chief.sure it had better days i guess,all the glass was gone,interrior rotten,half a motor and no transmission,but it was mine.he said he knew it would never run but that i had the use of any parts in the yard so i could practice on the car so oneday i could have a real shop of my own. well i worked on that car every second i could.i was in love.well to make this short,on august 29,i drug my dad out of bed,fixed us both a corn cobb pipe,grabbed his bottle and literally drug him out to the shop.i made him close his eyes,which was a mistake cause when he did he fell over,and i left him half laying on the ground.i yelled are you ready?and he said for what? i turned the key to my car over and stepped on the starter peddle,nothing.he laughed and said',trying to fool me bucko?'i stomped on the peddle again,it started.he sat up and his jaw fell to the ground.he got in and he began my first drining lesson. well that was many years ago,and thousands of cars later.dads in a retirement home i got him into when i came out of the service.now when i get him out for hime visits we head straight to the ol yard. my van still sits there as a reminder to me.the shop is partly fallen down and the house is a pile of rubble.the cars have been hauled away but a brand new shed has been put up. inside that shed u ask?well would you believe a bright red pontiac chief.we sit in the car and fire it up and down the road we go.its totally restored and has another 100000 miles on it becouse we both drove it for years butto this day not a bolt has been turned since i finished the car aug 29. its been years since ive gone back,dads gotten althymers and dont even know me.but ill still go back and sit in that car and ill star at the dash where 2 corn cobb pipes still lay. maybe it wasnt the best life,but it was filled with love and i think i turned out a pretty good man becouse of it.my tool box sitts n the corner and in the second drawer still sits his whisky.i love you dad,u may not of been my father but u earned the name dad.
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