Fathers' Day

My parents divorced when I was a few months old so my father was never a major part of my life. My very first memory of Dear old Dad was fishing on the Coquille River near Myrtle Point. I guess Mom must have let him have me for a weekend or something. I think I was three or four years old. I can remember Dad and his stepdad and another man all casting from the bank with spinning poles into the small river while rapidly drinking cans of beer. My sense of smell was acute as a child and I can remember the biting smell of the stuff when they opened a fresh one with a church key. I believe Dad and the guys caught fish although I don't remember specifically. Then Dad broke out the firearms and I remember learning to shoot a .22 rifle at a beer can at a range of 15 feet. Dad coached me and propped the long gun over a log or something for me. Alcohol, guns and children. No problem. Happy Fathers' Day, Dad! N