Rob Ervin

Dear Son,

First of all let me say, I am proud of you. I am very proud of you. Up here in Heaven, one of my favorite things to do is to watch you play professional baseball. I also enjoy watching you and the kids. Boy the little one sure is getting big! So don’t take this the wrong way when I tell you, stop pointing at me every time you get on base.

For example, last week in Philly you were facing that rookie and he walked you on five pitches. You got to first base and pointed to me dedicating that walk to my memory. Now son, a bases-loaded double in the 7th inning, that you can dedicate to me. A walk in the second inning? Not so much. Hell, if you would have swung at any of those pitches, I would have assumed the form of a German Shepard, came down there and bit you on your ass.

You don’t need to dedicate or remember me after every little thing. I’m up here with Ted Williams, Mickey Mantle, Dizzy and Satchel and we’re watching you play, because I am proud of you. But you got that walk and then pointed to me and oh my gosh these guys start breaking my balls.

Mickey said, “hey man, if he woulda actually hit the ball, he woulda lit a damn candle to you.” Williams called you a pussy and said something about your hands being too low and Dizzy and Satchel just laughed and pointed and spoke that weird language only the other one understands.

Honus and Josh said you and the others that point to Heaven only do it so you’ll look deep or spiritual or soulful in front of the fans. I don’t buy that. I’m glad you think of me, just don’t think of me after you do something so routine. Are you going to point to me after you field a pop-up? Or tie your shoes? So I’m glad you remember me but can you tone it down a bit. Point to me after the RBIs and the extra base hits. If your grounder rolls through the shortstop’s legs, you don’t need to draw any attention to me. Really. I mean it.

Love,

Dad,
Heaven

PS. Get some batting gloves that fit. Why do you need to adjust them after every pitch? Even after you take a pitch you adjust your gloves, it’s like watching grass grow. But I guess I have nothing but time anyway.

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DO: I visit my local butcher shop to get the freshest meats and cheeses.
DON’T: I drive out in the country the night before with no headlights on. Whatever goes bump goes on the grill.

DO: I paint my body and face to show my team spirit.
DON’T: My various rashes and sores are a lovely rainbow of colors already.

DO: I bring a salad of lettuce, carrots, onions and more.
DON’T: I bring a salad of Acupolco Gold, Kentucky Ditchweed and Butler County Skunk.

DO: Bean bags are heavy. I make sure our area is safe before our cornhole games.
DON’T: I play cornhole too but, it don’t involve bean bags and it ain’t safe.

DO: To prevent salmonella, I make sure our potato salad is kept nice and cool.
DON’T: If you let the potato salad set out long enough, the cole slaw will start talking to you.

DO: I sprinkle my devilled eggs with paprika to add color.
DON’T: I roll the deviled under my refrigerator so they can pick up some garnish.

DO: Tailgating can be messy. I make sure all my guests have enough napkins.
DON’T: If my sleeve is good enough for my nose, it’s good enough for my mouth.

DO: I pick up all my trash and place it in the proper receptacle.
DON’T: I pick up all my trash, stuff it in a Styrofoam cooler, put that in a truck tire, light the whole thing and see if it’s still burning when the game is over.

DO: To support my team, I wear their jersey.
DON’T: To support my team, I wear their hat…and a smile….and that’s about it.
DO: I use standard lighter fluid to start my grill.
DON’T: I use a mouthful of siphoned gas to start my grill.

DO: Let’s party smart. I make sure no minors in the area are drinking alcoholic beverages.
DON’T: If some snot nose touches my stash, I’ll kill him.

DO: If I see someone rooting for the other town, I’ll engage in playful, lighthearted trash talking.
DON’T: If I see someone from the other town, I’ll try to sell them counterfeit luxury box tickets.

DO: I bring a football so we can pass it back and forth.
DON’T: I bring a bong in the shape of Carson Palmer’s head and we pass that back and forth.

DO: I offer a wide variety of sodas, beers, water and wine.
DON’T: I have one bottle of whatever will fit down my pants at the discount liquor store.

MR DO: I gaze at pictures of the founders: Washington, Hamilton and Franklin and thank Providence. We were so lucky to have them.
MR DON’T: I offer the local prostitute two Hamiltons and two Washingtons if she’ll light my sparkler.

MR DO: I attend a professionally presented municipal fireworks display.
MR DON’T: I shoot bottle rockets out of my fly.

MR DO: I go to the local seniors’ center and read the Declaration of Independence.
MR DON’T: I go to the local seniors’ center and read them an important message just for them from a prominent Nigerian lawyer.

MR DO: When lighting a sparkler, I first set it in the ground and keep everyone fifteen feet away.
MR DON’T: Sparklers are dumb unless you add to their colors with a little self-generated methane gas.

MR DO: I proudly hang my flag outside my house.
MR DON’T: I drunkenly hang my naked butt out the passenger window of my cousin’s El Camino.

MR DO: I stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance.
MR DON’T: I stand and burp the alphabet.

MR DO: I look forward to hearing a pops concert featuring patriotic music.
MR DON’T: I can’t hear crap since I dropped that firecracker into my neighbor’s gas tank.

MR DO: To me, nothing says “4th of July” like a grill-out with good friends.
MR DON’T: My grill hasn’t worked since I huffed all the propane on Memorial Day.

MR DO: I go downtown and see a parade on Independence Day.
MR DON’T: I go downtown get my VD treated.

MR DO: To get in the spirit, I wear an Uncle Sam hat.
MR DON’T: I pass out in the neighbors kiddy pool wearing an Uncle Sam hat, and oh yea, a smile.

MR DO: I wonder what it must have been like in Philadelphia in 1776 when they were drafting the Declaration.
MR DON’T: I wonder why the damn methadone clinic is closed.

MR DO: I’m thrilled by the recent news that the bald eagle population is up.
MR DON’T: I shoot bottle rocket after bottle rocket at that stupid pigeon in my tree.

MR DO: I look for ways to make this America the land our founders envisioned.
MR DON’T: I look for that finger I blew off.

MR DO: I raise a toast to America and the 4th of July.
MR DON’T: I hit a Soviet artillery shell with a hammer until something cool happens.

MR DO: I give a homeless man a small donation so he can pursue the American dream.
MR DON’T: I give a bum a tattoo while he’s passed out by the tracks.

MR DO: I take a moment to enjoy a flag flapping in the breeze.
MR DON’T: I take some acid and watch a tree spontaneously combust and run the 50 yard dash.

MR DO: When I go camping, I take a big bag of can food for quick, nutritious meals.
MR DON’T: When I go camping, I take a big bag of broken Percodans for a quick exciting buzz.

MR DO: I always have a bucket of sand near my campfire in case I need to extinguish it.
MR DON’T: I always have a twelve pack of Busch in my stomach in case I need to extinguish the campfire…or a cigarette…or a firefly, it doesn’t matter.

MR DO: If camping in a state or national park, I ask the park rangers about camp activities like free movies.
MR DON’T: When everyone’s at the free movie, I steal their hot dogs and siphon their gas.

MR DO: Although campgrounds can get crowded, I respect everyone’s privacy.
MR DON’T: A park is one place where no one is suspicious of a guy with binoculars around his neck. You’d be surprised how much you can see through a mesh bug screen.

MR DO: If I bring a pet with me, I make sure to clean up after his mess.
MR DON’T: The inbred pit bull I bought from Michael Vick hates camping.

MR DO: Although I am ashamed to admit it, there have been a few occasions when I couldn’t get near the bathroom and I have tinkled in the woods.
MR DON’T: A good phrase to know is, “Hey look at the size of that! Wow, there must be a grizzly nearby who loves peanuts.”

MR DO: I keep flashlights and plenty of batteries in the campsite.
MR DON’T: I keep a strobe light hooked up to my diesel generator so the party lasts all night long.

MR DO: I love roasting marshmallows and making s’mores.
MR DON’T: When adding pine needles to make menthol hash, make sure they are dry, but not too dry.

MR DO: When I go camping, I like to bring a few magazines and a fun paperback novel.
MR DON’T: I never go anywhere without my collection of erotic etchings.

MR DO: If you run out or forget to pack toiletries, usually there is a camp store that can provide what you need.
MR DON’T: For an extra fifteen bucks, a good crack ho will swing by Walgreen’s on her way to your campsite.

MR DO: I live by the motto, “Leaves of three, let them be”
MR DON’T: I live by the motto, “If it feels good, do it to me.”

MR DO: A campground is a public place. If camping with my beloved MRS DO, we keep our passions in check until we leave the campsite.
MR DON’T: There’s nothing better than forcing a raccoon to watch you do it.

MR DO: I try to leave the campsite cleaner than when I arrived.
MR DON’T: I try to leave my initials carved in every tree.

MR DO: Driving to your campsite at night can be stressful. Go very slow with your fog lights on.
MR DON’T: I go fifty with no lights on. I assume those bumps I hear and feel are raccoons.

MR DO: I ask the group of college girls camping if they need any help with their tent.
MR DON’T: I ask that group of college girls camping if they need any help shaving.

MR DO: I’m thankful for the chance to get closer to the earth and commune with Mother Nature.
MR DON’T: I’m thankful the poison ivy and assorted bug bites will take my mind off my permanent rashes.