justGravy

The car ride up noriega was quiet.  I checked my motorola razr for the time, it was almost 2 already.  We parked on 28th and i walked with haste, several squares ahead of my father toward a janky old van.  as i tread forward, i continuously glanced backwards to see what the hold up was.  the van was leaving soon, and today was the day.  my dad strolled behind me, never once breaking the stoic character hes played for the years i’ve known him.  We finally reached the van and a white haired vendor sat at the edge of his trunk with the backdoor perched over his balding head.  I took a deep breath, and took in the smells of old glue and the aroma of fresh blades.  He came once a month, and brought with him an all-you-could-want supply of paddle composites. Practice balls, game balls, speed glues, cleaners, grip tapes, you name it, he had it.  Today was the day I was going to get my own paddle.  I picked out the “All-Around Evolution” Stiga blade, and Sriver EL and Hurricane III rubbers to combine for $94.  my excitement was guilt-stained, cause i knew my dad hated to spend monies unnecessarily. but, he knew.  he knew i had fallen in love with the game and so he pulled the dollars from his wallet.  so thanks dad, love you too.

tangibleridiculosity:

eatyourmuffin:

the ones who treat you right and the ones who make you happy. 

Not a lot of people acquire both qualities but I have to say I’m the lucky one here. Somewhere along the way everything just fell right in place. 

i miss annie too :(

i miss annie also :(