I can remember like it was yesterday my father telling me over and over again the importance of finding a job. From an early age I was rolling the mower (my Bigwheel) through the neighborhood with a trailer my father built for me to pull the gas-can. I remember rolling that mower through the yard with the leaves crackling beneath all the heavy equipment. I remember my father standing and smiling as he toked on his Kent Golden Light shorties. He had a pop belly then just like all the other rail dad's. I swear there should be a hug your favorite railroad engineer day. I have never met one who wasn't a total pain in the ass. But when push comes to shove, you will never find a more loyal individual than someone of the railroad persuasion. All his friends are gone now and his wife, my mother, is engaged in a battle with Alzheimer's. Nobody in the family ever calls them or sends them cards in the mail with the exception of the oldest. The only thing they both did their entire lives was work and pay the bills and give each of us our own individual and cherished experience in life growing up. Times could be good and times could be bad and times could be all and everything between. I suppose most families are like that and the word "normal" cannot be applied. I told them a long time ago I would be there. I am there.