First off – let me say that most of today was just fine. That’s why I’m only kinda pissed.
I went to my hometown during the all-school reunion festivities today, & made my first stop my parent’s house. Because, of course, I did! I’m a good daughter!
Dad was out of town, so it was just Mom and me, & we ended up wandering the town to look for Dwight Knuth, the gentleman who wrote his autobiography, & featured one of my blog posts in it. We met up with him at the school, & talked to him for a bit. It was really, very nice & he had to have a hug from us both when we parted.
We went in search of the shadow box my dad built for the school which holds my sculpture of Horton & the book, Horton Hatches an Egg, which I mentioned features my hometown in it.
See the teeny little plaque at the bottom?
Know what it says?
“Donated by the Class of 2015”.
Nothing, and I repeat…Nothing about how my DAD built that wooden box FROM SCRATCH… Nothing about how a member of the Class of 1988 created the sculpture.
Nothing about the hours of time it took my dad to handcraft each piece of this shadow box. The measuring, sanding, staining -painstaking work that he put into this piece, making sure that each shelf fit perfectly into the enclosure, and would hold up over the years.
This is not a “company-made” piece…this is a hand made, one-of-a-kind piece of artwork.
But no one knows that, because my dad is too humble to ever push himself forward in that manner. He’ll never tell anyone about the work he put into it.
Just that the Class of 2015 Donated it.
Ungrateful little shits.
Pisses me right the hell off.
Did I get a thank you?
From my Dad, yes.
From the Class of 2015? I got fuck all.
After that, Mom & I blew that popsicle stand & went downtown to have lunch, retreating back to their place afterwards.
I did stick around long enough to hit the “street dance” too… (Nobody was really dancing, more like milling around the street, drinking & listening to a band play really loudly)
I did end up running into some classmates, & had fun talking to them, catching up with where they are, what they’ve been doing, how old we’re all feeling anymore…
And before I knew it, it was almost 11pm, & I had to get the hell out of Dodge. I hate driving the highways so late at night, after hitting a deer a few years back – it makes you a bit jumpy & skittish while driving alone.
So, I’m home, safe. I didn’t smite the town with lightning…although I’d like to smack some little ungrateful wretches from the Class of 2015…
And I scored some homemade strawberry jam out of Mom’s freezer…so…definite win.
So, no lightning, but still kinda pissed.