Father's Day

     I used to own a 1969 VW bus. We used it to transport our band equipment from gig to gig. It was a typical hippie bus complete with tie-dyed curtains, and the embedded smell of pot smoke that permeated every part of the tattered insides. Clearly this old bus had seen better days, but it usually got us to where we needed to go.


     One extremely foggy Friday night, we embarked on a short seven mile trek to a little hole-in-the-wall bar. We loaded the bus with amps, drums, and huge speakers. I got in and depressed the brake pedal. It went to the floor. I had no brakes. With the exceedingly thick fog and no brakes, it looked like our little gig would be cancelled. Enter Dad with his glass of whiskey and Coke.

     As to not jeopardize my life, or the potentially missed wages of roughly 16.00 a piece, he decided to take matters into his own hands. After all, who better than a slightly inebriated father/sound man to get our cargo to the show? Fog? Bah! No brakes? Bah! He had been driving these mountain roads longer than I’ve been alive. So he climbed in the driver’s seat, with drink still in hand, and we proceeded to the gig. Visibility was about 12 inches and it was getting dark.

     Eventually, we had to stop and take a hard right turn. With no brakes, we made this turn at approximately 20 miles an hour. Needless to say, the bus turned over on its side. Dad fell on me, and we both climbed out the driver’s side door. My uncle came to the rescue with his tractor. We hooked a chain to the bus, he pulled it back on its wheels, and we proceeded to the show. We finally made it, and the show went off without a hitch.

     That’s one of a thousand stories I could tell about my dad. We didn’t really see eye to eye on most things when I was growing up, but as I got older, I learned to appreciate his experience and wisdom. We got extremely close when I moved in with him while separated from my wife. He was going through a divorce at the time, and we bonded for that year. We drank away our sorrows every night, played pool and darts, and generally had a good time. I really miss the pool games.

     This father’s day, please remember your dad. I would give anything to just play one more pool game with my dad. Cherish him, because he won’t be around forever. Today is June 13th. My dad died on this day three years ago now. His memory is still fresh in my mind. I still think of him daily. Father’s Day is Sunday. If you still have a father, please let him know you love him. Let him know how special he is in your life. Let him know that you are thinking of him.

Happy Father’s Day.

In memory of dad.

RIP James S Hoover

5/25/47- 6/13/11