My dad put a CB radio in his Cadillac when it was the big craze in the mid 1970’s.
He was strict about letting me use it.
We pulled into the White Hen parking lot on a cloudy and cold Saturday afternoon. The Oldman had a weekly routine where he bought his early edition Sunday paper, a lottery ticket and a gallon of milk.
Every Saturday afternoon... same White Hen, same clerk, same parking spot, same lottery numbers and a gallon of whole milk.
Not soon after he entered the White Hen, I was on his CB radio.
Asking for radio checks, what time it was, what everyone’s twenty was and if there were any bears in the area.
I had to be careful and not let my dad see me jagging around with his CB.
The store door opened and here comes the Oldman with the Sunday Trib and SunTimes. He had a gallon of milk and a box of Entenmann’s.
When he got into the car he grumbled,
“Before you answer my question, just so you know, Omar and I have been watching you for the last five minutes.”
He lit a cigarette, started the car and asked me,
“did you jag around with the CB when I was in the White Hen?”
My dad had a knack of knowing when I was doing something stupid before I did something stupid.
Now I’m the parent and my CB radio is Facebook. Somehow my sixth grade daughter finagled her way onto this incredible social network.
This is a little more dangerous than asking some assclown on the Dan Ryan about southbound traffic.
It is more like my daughter found my diary and a stack of Playboys under my bed.
Well, here is the first Morning Chalkboard with a young Chalkhead reading from the Westside of Mannheim Road.
I can’t defriend her now and I know her mom is in the White Hen watching what I’m doing.
Half of you are scratching your head and the other half are hoping this doesn’t backfire on me.
The last Sunday of June and the weather girl drew up a fantastic day for us in the metropolitan Chicagoland area.
I’m very interested in riding my bike to a beer garden today.
There is a smile on the sun and adventures to be had.
Let’s end this month on a high note…
…be kind, be astonished and I’m ending with a big 10-4 good buddy.
