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Check out what Trampas has to say!

A prude? Nah, just different.

I’m a teetotaler. I hate the taste of alcohol. Oh, yes, it’s an acquired taste, or so I hear. That just tells me it wasn’t good to begin with. Plus you can act stupid (which I can do very well on my own, thank you) and you’ll have regrets the next morning.

I never really went to any parties, either. Not any “real” parties. I got invited to one that Tina Graham was throwing. She just knew I wouldn’t be there. I showed up to prove her wrong (I’m ornery like that), but when I got there, she was already passed out. Talked to Nikki some. It became evident quite quickly that this just wasn’t my type of environment. I left shortly thereafter, especially since the police were right across the street.

I say all of this not to demonstrate what sort of “prude” I am, but rather to say that we don’t all beat to the same drum. I’m different. I’ve always been different. I like to have fun, sure, but I think what I define as fun and what other people define as fun are two different things.

Sometimes I regret that I never fit in better. But then I start to think about it, and I realize that this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I think it made me stronger. I have the strength to say no, to walk my own path, and to realize that it’s okay to do so.

I also believe that my path has earned me a certain amount of respect. No, maybe I won’t get invited to parties. But that’s okay. I’ve had some amazing adventures of my own, some that transcend parties and booze. I have hobnobbed with authors, been published, traveled to Yellowstone, and journeyed upon fantastic worlds of the imagination. I will take that any day of the week.

My Dad…The Invincible!

My dad is invincible. This is a fact set in stone. You might think that this is the case for any boy, but my dad is more invincible than your average invincible dad. Indeed, I have seen him pull off the impossible time and again, and always he survives. He never fails, and never falters.

My dad is a World War II veteran who, to this day, carries kamikaze shrapnel within his body. For that, he has won the Purple Heart. He has worked on an automotive assembly line for 28 years, and has since retired. He works extensively in the church, and even served as pastor for five years in the process. He is an honorable man, who would give you the shirt off of his back if you asked him to. During most of this time, he also owned and operated a 200 acre farm, raising all manner of livestock, and has worked the fields as well. He stands a half foot shorter than me, but I know that he could still give me a run for my money.

I notice that he gets flustered a lot. This is caused by his desire to make the world a more perfect place. It shows in all facets in his life, from his farming to his work within the church. He knows that he can’t fix the world. This is especially hard for someone who is a fix-it man. Yet he tries constantly to do what he can to make the world a better place.

We had a family reunion at our house one summer. It was a warm, beautiful summer day. The sun was shining, and the sky was perfectly blue. I was a young boy at the time, and everyone in my family that I did or did not know showed up. I had not seen many of them in a very long while. As you can imagine, it was the absolute worst time for a tragedy to occur.

My dad wanted to get our farm looking as good as it could. He decided to hook up the mower to the tractor, and touch up the place. He even tried to mow the pond bank. In so doing, he rolled his tractor. I have heard of countless people who have killed themselves when their tractor rolled on a pond bank. No one survives that.

No one, that is, save for my dad! I knew that the tractor flipped. As I looked on in unspeakable horror, I saw my dad rise above the pond bank with a scowl and a look of embarrassment on his face. We all rushed to him and asked him if he was okay. As it turns out, the only thing that was hurt was his pride.

So it went throughout the years. My dad has tangled with tractors, finagled with flagpoles, battled with bulls, persevered against pugnacious pigs, and he even survived the Reagan Administration, being the stern democrat that he is. There was even a time that he survived sharpening his leg upon his chainsaw. Yes sir, my dad is truly invincible.

Or at least I thought he was, until he had his stroke. It was around mid-January 1999 when I received a phone call from my mom. I was at work, thinking only about the tedium of my day when my life was turned upside down. My dad had been taken to the hospital. He was diagnosed as having a minor stroke. If you ask me, no stroke is minor.

This was a blow to my sense of reality, at least as far as it concerned my dad. I rushed to the hospital to see him bedridden. I still couldn’t believe that this was going on. This was my dad! He’s invincible! Oh, he could get around, but he was supposed to have someone help him at all times. He is a prideful man, and as such didn’t want help from anyone. He never has asked for help in his life. For the first time, he had to. By the time he got out of the hospital, I’m sure the nurses were glad to get rid of him.

You don’t just get over a stroke. You never do. He works with his diet and tries his best to exercise. It is a constant battle that he fights every day. In some ways, it is a more dangerous enemy than any he faced in World War II. He knows that he will never be to the point that he was once at, but he has come somewhat close. I know in my heart just how much it frustrates him, not being able to do what he once did.

Now my dad is back in his wood shop making crafts. He still makes them too fast for my mom to paint, even though he is slower than he used to be. Sometimes he needs to lean on a shopping cart in the grocery store, even as he leans upon his faith every day to make it through. His days vary from good to bad. However, he has family to count on who will help him through.

His two-year-old grandson, especially, keeps him going. For in his grandson, he sees a reflection of himself. He sees a short bundle of energy who can not be defeated by the world. He sees curiosity on how the world works. And he sees a kind heart.

I, for one, know that my dad is going to be okay. Why?

Because my dad is invincible. He doesn’t quit. He takes every day in stride, and doesn’t falter, no matter what cards he has had dealt to him in life. He has always taken care of his wife and son, and done right by those around him. His body may not be what it once was, but it is truly his spirit that is invincible.

If our spirits are strong, particularly strong in the love that God gives us, then we can all be invincible.