As a kid, in Lincoln, Nebraska, I was always into something. As a result, I was quite familure with "The Belt". Looking back, I deserved evey one of them.
I decieded I didn't like the color of the shingles, on the roof of Dads garage. So I started pianting every other one bright red. Hence the belt. To this day red scares me.
I wanted a place to play with my MatchBox cars, in the rain. Flooding the basement in our house sounded like a good idea, at the time. The Belt.
I wanted to build a fort in the back yard so I used all the wood Dad had saved for a project on that fort. Again the belt.
I took Dads lawn mower apart, just to see how it worked. This time there was no belt. He felt sorry for me. I held on to the spark plug wire while I pulled the rope. I found out what it was to get shocked by a spark plug wire. Dad laughed until he cried.
Dad, I cherish all the memories of you, and will through all my life.