Pops

So I am back baby! I am refreshed from a nice break and ready to rock out another kickin’ blog for my adoring public.

The subject of the day… my Pop.

Pop is not your average Ward Clever, Mike Brady type of father. Dude never helped me with my homework and seldom dropped knowledge on me that would have been helpful in class. This is odd considering the man has been a teacher for 30 years. But my Dad is not a Mr. Holland’s Opus type of teacher, he is more of a “hey this is a good gig and I get three months off in the summer type of teacher.”

But this not to say I did not learn anything from my old man, actually quite the opposite. He taught me all the most important lessons. He taught me life lessons that I use to this day. Pops schooled me on the art of point spread in football betting and staying away from the hook (which means a point spread with a ½ point attached to it… example a team needs to win by 7 ½ ). He educated me in the world of hangover recovery, showing me that a cold beer and greasy breakfast topped in A1 sauce is a tasty treat to cure a really bad hanger. Pops showed me his way with the ladies and whatever weak arse game I did run in college was all learned from him.

Hell he gave me my first Old Style!

Dude took me to at least 10 Cubs games every summer (CF bleachers baby) and got Colts season tickets so we could hang when I moved to Indy. We spent summers at Lake Michigan and Pine Lake, Saturdays in the fall watching college football at St. Joe’s Polish Men’s club (no Dad is not Polish. When I asked him why he was a member he said it’s cheap beer and you can cash checks there. So apparently before ATM and direct deposit you had to belong to a club to get money?)

No he is not perfect. He is not the traditional TV father, but he is mine and I love him.