For want of a ladder rack, my father was lost

Not having a vehicle since 1999 leads me to being very narrow minded when it comes to people taking care of their vehicles. More so when it's a nice red pickemup truck. When I went to live with my biological father; the one I tracked down for years; I faced an evil I never thought a family member of mine could do.

He had a red pickemup truck. With tools and stuff in the back, and a ladder that sat on a piece of crap steel mish mash he made that scratched that truck bed's sides.

If only he'd gotten a ladder rack!

He would have been the envy of the sheep farmer next door. He would have been held in esteem when pulling into the Wal-Mart Supercenter down yonder. He woulda...he woulda...he woulda been SOMEBODY at the parking lot conversations each Friday night at the gas station.

He didn't. Now, we don't talk anymore. My wife called, but was told not to call again. Maybe it was my upbringing he didn't like. Maybe it was the way I polished his boots, trying to make them shine even though he was a deserter.

Or maybe it was not giving him a ladder rack for Christmas.

Don't make the same mistake I did, folks. Keep your daddies close! Get them ladder racks, before it's too late.