Just Think; Your Dad Played Wiffle Ball With You. Once

Just Think; Your Dad Played Wiffle Ball With You. Once

There can be no mightier man than the Dad Man.

See, Dad Man starts out big. He’s ten feet tall with arms like derricks and legs like tree trunks. He picks you up like a rag doll and throws you up in the air like a satellite. His voice booms like dragons arguing in a cave. His beard is like pavement. You’re down there on the floor, and he’s up there in the heavens. He has pockets full of quarters. He is the mightiest man you know.

Then there’s this guy. He’s Dad Man squared. 

(Thanks to reader Jonathan Frost-Johnson for sending that one along, via The Silicon Graybeard)

One thought on “Just Think; Your Dad Played Wiffle Ball With You. Once”

  1. I used to go into my dad’s workshop (he was an electrician, TV repair) and pick thru a pile of transistors, tubes, nuts, bolts, colored wires, resistors. It would leave a wonderful, faint metallic-and-burnt-oil scent on my little hands. One day I found an old cigar box and turned it into my very own gear-head treasure trunk. I decked out the lid with my favorite stuff, and made my very own test panel. I had five brothers growing up. Two sisters, too, but they weren’t much fun.

Comments are closed.

Comments are closed.