Day18~ Dairy Queen Blues

my dad was an mysterious man-  cool and aloof

always making random appearances throughout my childhood

I remember once

when I was five, one lucky Saturday night he took me to Dairy Queen

driving a shiny black Mustang- blaring his rock music


screaming guitars echoing in my ears

his car smelled of cloves- or incense- or spice

the same way he smelled when I hugged him

rugged and masculine

I felt proud to be next to him

he drove fast- screeching his breaks into the parking lot

Me and my dad at Dairy Queen…me skipping behind him

he let me order whatever I wanted..anything he said

a grape Mr. Misty –EXTRA LARGE– feeling oh so sophisticated

slurping my purple decadence

I loved watching him as he watched

all the petty girls who walked through the door

sitting up straight and puffing out his chest

the girls always looked back too giggling and whispering

he had long hippie rock star hair and wore Ron Jon shirts

I had long hair too

he told me to never ever cut it- it’s what he liked best about me

I’ve kept my hair long most of my life


I wanted to understand him


as quick as he came he was gone again…

like a picture flash- a snap shot to remember him by

sooner or later another lucky day would come along



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