About Being Good

Often as I left the house my dad would end our conversation by saying 'Be Good.' Since I really didn't understand what that meant it was very easy to say . . . 'Don't worry dad I'm always good.'' Which, of course, was a real stretch.

I wonder how many parents left those words with their sons and daughters as they departed for spring break. Two examples of what I think parents meant have already surfaced.

It's very tempting to throw objects from an upper balcony into our parking lot. A beer bottle sails nicely and makes a huge noise as it pluges through a windshield. A 'left over' Winter Texan told me of this happening to him. He was resigned to getting it fixed at his expense. A day later he found two one hundred dollar bills on his seat with this note: "I'm very sorry . . . this should cover it."

These three guys were leaving the beach and decided to empty their cooler . . . into the trash can. 'Worth a picture,' I said. ' Just being good,' they responded.

Someone noticed my old truck in the parking lot and apparently thought I could use another tire. They could have thrown it through the windshield . . . but they didn't. It's a good tire and my size!

My dad talked to me a lot about religion. I don't think he was talking church religion, I just think he was talking about being good.