Date: Tue, 4 Mar 1997 20:54:26 -0800 (PST)
Mime-Version: 1.0
To: (Charles Balis, M.D.)
Subject: Re: Please Tell Me About Yourself (was Re: Hello)

My father was the General Manager of our town's Piggly Wiggly. He started as an assistant butcher and worked his way up. He died in a car accident when I was nine years old.

I don't remember too much about him, but I remember his presence in the house, or perhaps it was the power of his not being there. Mother used to yell at him late at night when we children were all in bed. He would always come home late, even though his shift at work was over at 6 p.m. At the time I couldn't figure out what she was so angry about, but as I got older, things began to make more sense.

Dad died when he lost control of his car and hit a tree. There was a woman in the car with him. People all over town would be talking about the accident, but when they saw me or my sisters, they would become very quiet and solemn.

When I was in High School, a friend told me that the rumor had been that the woman, the wife of some guy in the Chamber of Commerce, had been giving my Dad a blow job when he lost control of the car. It made sense. Dad was always very popular with the women in town.

What was real funny, is after Dad died, Mom made him into a saint. She could never say a kind word about him when he was alive, I remember her always telling me,"You'll grow up to be the same good-for-nothing as your father." After the accident she would say things like, "You should try to be more like your dear father, bless his soul."

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