Fathers.
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Joined: Feb 2011
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From: Jacksonville NC
Fathers.
So as many great stories and questions start,. iv had a few drinks tonight....
First a little about myself, no bragging and such just info so ya can see where im comming from.
I was raised by a pretty hard man, he tought me right and wrong with his hand. and belt when i deserved it, he worked 3 jobs at times to put food on the table, and make sure we had gifts for x-mas and the like. he never had a harley he rode what he could afford, i remember him riding me down the road at break neck speeds, me all little holding onto the square tank of a zuki as the wind took my breath away. the weekend parties with loud dudes with big beards, drunk chicks, plain old working class folks. who worked hard and lived hard, and partied even harder.
my old man was big on getting through school, used to ride me hard on my studies but he also instilled a pride of working hard, and being a man, i remember getting put in the hospital by some bigger kids because they had stolen my playing cards. and i jumped on one of them, and needless to say i got the lesser end of the deal. and once my old man brought me home i got it worse because he had to pay a hospital bill.
the day i joined the Marines i think was my fathers proudest moment,
these past few years he has gotten up in years and has calmed down some, he dont ride no more, he says its because of his health, i suspect his old lady has won....
now me and my old man never saw eye to eye on many things, and can go for quite awile without saying to much to one another.
but this all changed in Jan 2010. i got blown up by an IED In afghanistan it killed two of my brothers. i have yet to come to terms with it, but my old man was right there when i got back to the states to pick me up....
maybe im just hammered or whatever, but hey fathers. gotta love um. were it not for mine id prolly be in jail.
First a little about myself, no bragging and such just info so ya can see where im comming from.
I was raised by a pretty hard man, he tought me right and wrong with his hand. and belt when i deserved it, he worked 3 jobs at times to put food on the table, and make sure we had gifts for x-mas and the like. he never had a harley he rode what he could afford, i remember him riding me down the road at break neck speeds, me all little holding onto the square tank of a zuki as the wind took my breath away. the weekend parties with loud dudes with big beards, drunk chicks, plain old working class folks. who worked hard and lived hard, and partied even harder.
my old man was big on getting through school, used to ride me hard on my studies but he also instilled a pride of working hard, and being a man, i remember getting put in the hospital by some bigger kids because they had stolen my playing cards. and i jumped on one of them, and needless to say i got the lesser end of the deal. and once my old man brought me home i got it worse because he had to pay a hospital bill.
the day i joined the Marines i think was my fathers proudest moment,
these past few years he has gotten up in years and has calmed down some, he dont ride no more, he says its because of his health, i suspect his old lady has won....
now me and my old man never saw eye to eye on many things, and can go for quite awile without saying to much to one another.
but this all changed in Jan 2010. i got blown up by an IED In afghanistan it killed two of my brothers. i have yet to come to terms with it, but my old man was right there when i got back to the states to pick me up....
maybe im just hammered or whatever, but hey fathers. gotta love um. were it not for mine id prolly be in jail.
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I'm really sorry to hijack your thread, but if you have the time and inclination, could you take a picture of where your rear fender struts connect to your bike? I'm rebuilding a 74 and I have no frame of reference because mine is a hardtail, and I need ideas on how to stick a fatbob fender on it. Sorry to hear about your experience in the 'ghan, my little brother left for there last friday for his third tour. Oh, and Semper Fi, devildog.
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From: Jacksonville NC
Tourer
Joined: Aug 2009
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yeah man, in florida right now ill attach what i have on this laptop. if it dont help ill give ya some detailed pics next week.Attachment 181326
good?
good?
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Joined: Apr 2005
Posts: 2,106
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From: SoCal
Thanks for your service to our country, your sacrafice, and for letting us know about your dad. There are many support systems out there for you. Keep using them, keep active, and keep posting.
While a lot of society focuses on the mother, the father plays a very important role, especially in the life of a boy. Your dad was a BIG factor in your life. So was mine. I lost my dad several years ago and still miss him. When I think of the things he did in his life, I can feel small in his shadow. My dad was the typical (if there is one) American Success story. He was born on a sugar cane plantation in Hawaii. His father came over from the Philippines to work the fields. He was raised one level above a slave. He was born and bred into this world for one reason, to cut cane and pick pineapples. Yet at the Zenith of his career he worked in the Pentagon and sat two doors down from the Secretary of the US Navy. He was there for the fall of Saigon and helped evacuate all the US Personnel. In his retired years small countries and principalities came to him for direction as how to best operate their governments and run their countries.
He taught me that success comes with effort, riches come with time and that the richest things are the ones you find on your own. Through him I learned the richness of a Pucinni opera, and the timeliness of Shakespeare. He showed me how to enjoy good food, good drink and a good time. He taught me how to cook ribs and eat crabs. He showed me how to drive a clutch car, how to cut meat, how to string a bow, fletch an arrow and hit the target. He was firm yet compassionate. Strict, yet guiding and always full of advice. It pained me to see him in his final years, stuck in a wheelchair with one side of his body barely functioning. I made sure my kids got to know him and brought them for weekly visits.
At times like this I wish he was here, if only to pick his brain and listen to his wisdom.
While a lot of society focuses on the mother, the father plays a very important role, especially in the life of a boy. Your dad was a BIG factor in your life. So was mine. I lost my dad several years ago and still miss him. When I think of the things he did in his life, I can feel small in his shadow. My dad was the typical (if there is one) American Success story. He was born on a sugar cane plantation in Hawaii. His father came over from the Philippines to work the fields. He was raised one level above a slave. He was born and bred into this world for one reason, to cut cane and pick pineapples. Yet at the Zenith of his career he worked in the Pentagon and sat two doors down from the Secretary of the US Navy. He was there for the fall of Saigon and helped evacuate all the US Personnel. In his retired years small countries and principalities came to him for direction as how to best operate their governments and run their countries.
He taught me that success comes with effort, riches come with time and that the richest things are the ones you find on your own. Through him I learned the richness of a Pucinni opera, and the timeliness of Shakespeare. He showed me how to enjoy good food, good drink and a good time. He taught me how to cook ribs and eat crabs. He showed me how to drive a clutch car, how to cut meat, how to string a bow, fletch an arrow and hit the target. He was firm yet compassionate. Strict, yet guiding and always full of advice. It pained me to see him in his final years, stuck in a wheelchair with one side of his body barely functioning. I made sure my kids got to know him and brought them for weekly visits.
At times like this I wish he was here, if only to pick his brain and listen to his wisdom.
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From: Down by the River
Ripsher,
Thanks for you service brother, and I too hope you well.
My old man was old fashion Italian, ruled me with an iron fist, taught me right from wrong, there were many times I thought he was too over bearing, too demanding, and way too strict, but I loved the man all the same. I remember one day he stopped by to visit me at my home, my son (who is now 21) was in his terrible 2's, running me ragged, the old man sat there with a **** eating grin on his face, and I looked at him and said...."I get it now Pop, I finally get it".....he smiled at me and said...."I knew you would, it takes having one of your own, but eventually I knew you would".....
Dad was a crusty old WWII vet, hated doctors, always said...."boy I made through a world war, I'll make to the end of my days without their help"... on the day he died, he called for an ambulance, was standing at the curb when they arrived and walked in on his own, within 10 minutes after arriving at the hospital ER, he was dead of congestive heart failure. I miss him every day, and wish he was still around to see the job I did raising his only grandchildren, I like to think he'd be proud of me.....
Enjoy your old man while you still got him, it's not easy standing over that box saying your final good bye.....
Thanks for you service brother, and I too hope you well.
My old man was old fashion Italian, ruled me with an iron fist, taught me right from wrong, there were many times I thought he was too over bearing, too demanding, and way too strict, but I loved the man all the same. I remember one day he stopped by to visit me at my home, my son (who is now 21) was in his terrible 2's, running me ragged, the old man sat there with a **** eating grin on his face, and I looked at him and said...."I get it now Pop, I finally get it".....he smiled at me and said...."I knew you would, it takes having one of your own, but eventually I knew you would".....
Dad was a crusty old WWII vet, hated doctors, always said...."boy I made through a world war, I'll make to the end of my days without their help"... on the day he died, he called for an ambulance, was standing at the curb when they arrived and walked in on his own, within 10 minutes after arriving at the hospital ER, he was dead of congestive heart failure. I miss him every day, and wish he was still around to see the job I did raising his only grandchildren, I like to think he'd be proud of me.....
Enjoy your old man while you still got him, it's not easy standing over that box saying your final good bye.....
Outstanding HDF Member
Joined: May 2009
Posts: 2,671
Likes: 1
From: Virginia
So as many great stories and questions start,. iv had a few drinks tonight....
First a little about myself, no bragging and such just info so ya can see where im comming from.
I was raised by a pretty hard man, he tought me right and wrong with his hand. and belt when i deserved it, he worked 3 jobs at times to put food on the table, and make sure we had gifts for x-mas and the like. he never had a harley he rode what he could afford, i remember him riding me down the road at break neck speeds, me all little holding onto the square tank of a zuki as the wind took my breath away. the weekend parties with loud dudes with big beards, drunk chicks, plain old working class folks. who worked hard and lived hard, and partied even harder.
my old man was big on getting through school, used to ride me hard on my studies but he also instilled a pride of working hard, and being a man, i remember getting put in the hospital by some bigger kids because they had stolen my playing cards. and i jumped on one of them, and needless to say i got the lesser end of the deal. and once my old man brought me home i got it worse because he had to pay a hospital bill.
the day i joined the Marines i think was my fathers proudest moment,
these past few years he has gotten up in years and has calmed down some, he dont ride no more, he says its because of his health, i suspect his old lady has won....
now me and my old man never saw eye to eye on many things, and can go for quite awile without saying to much to one another.
but this all changed in Jan 2010. i got blown up by an IED In afghanistan it killed two of my brothers. i have yet to come to terms with it, but my old man was right there when i got back to the states to pick me up....
maybe im just hammered or whatever, but hey fathers. gotta love um. were it not for mine id prolly be in jail.
First a little about myself, no bragging and such just info so ya can see where im comming from.
I was raised by a pretty hard man, he tought me right and wrong with his hand. and belt when i deserved it, he worked 3 jobs at times to put food on the table, and make sure we had gifts for x-mas and the like. he never had a harley he rode what he could afford, i remember him riding me down the road at break neck speeds, me all little holding onto the square tank of a zuki as the wind took my breath away. the weekend parties with loud dudes with big beards, drunk chicks, plain old working class folks. who worked hard and lived hard, and partied even harder.
my old man was big on getting through school, used to ride me hard on my studies but he also instilled a pride of working hard, and being a man, i remember getting put in the hospital by some bigger kids because they had stolen my playing cards. and i jumped on one of them, and needless to say i got the lesser end of the deal. and once my old man brought me home i got it worse because he had to pay a hospital bill.
the day i joined the Marines i think was my fathers proudest moment,
these past few years he has gotten up in years and has calmed down some, he dont ride no more, he says its because of his health, i suspect his old lady has won....
now me and my old man never saw eye to eye on many things, and can go for quite awile without saying to much to one another.
but this all changed in Jan 2010. i got blown up by an IED In afghanistan it killed two of my brothers. i have yet to come to terms with it, but my old man was right there when i got back to the states to pick me up....
maybe im just hammered or whatever, but hey fathers. gotta love um. were it not for mine id prolly be in jail.