Ever see the dashboard of a  vehicle
just loaded with junk? 
Maps, tools, food wrappers, papers, etc.? 
Ever say to yourself
"I'll never be like that person"?  
Me too. 
Both counts. 
Not always, I clean off my dashboard 
from time to time,
so I'm not ALWAYS that person,
just sometimes.

Ever see somebody walking along
with a bunch of keys hanging on
the outside of their pocket? 
They sound like a reindeer,
and it looks like a fishing lure on their belt.   
Like they're fishing for swordfish.  
As they walk thru a parking lot.  
Ever say to yourself
"I'll never be like that person"? 
Me too. 
But it happens. 
Not always, I don't even like swordfish, but SOMETIMES
I need to let my keys a-dangle in the breeze.  Free-keyin' I call it.   
Airborne luring they say in some parts. 
I'm not always that person, just sometimes.

Ever see my dad cut the grass? 
Back in the seventies? 
He would wear a white-t-shirt, shorts, and black leather shoes. 
And black socks. 
That's right. 
Black leather shoes, like what you wear to church or the office, and black socks, like what you also wear to those places, only not so much with SHORTS, and especially not while mowing the grass probably.  He didn't SOMETIMES wear that when he cut the grass, THAT was his cut-the-grass uniform.  Everytime.

On a scale of one to ten I know it doesn't matter
a jack-diddly-squat-inside-a-donut-hole
what he wore when cutting the grass,
for all I know Leonardo da Vinci would have done the same
if he had the chance,
and Adam and Moses,
and St. Peter might have his own angelic version
of  the cut-the-grass uniform at the pearly gates. 
And so on throughout history,
the shorts and black socks and shoes thing
might very well be
the common thread all over this great universe of ours.  

So, I'm not always THAT person,
But SOMETIMES I have a cluttered dash, 
swordfish-lure keys dangling,
and this Father's Day, I plan to cut the grass in my dads uniform, completed with
black leather shoes
and black socks, 
shorts,
and a white t-shirt. 
I'm not my dad, but SOMETIMES...