A dark and closely guarded family secret was recently exposed to the light of day. Apparently, my father lettered in a sport in high school. That's innocuous enough. However, he lettered in, get this, Shuffleboard!
In the 40+ years that my mom has known my father, she was under the impression that he earned his letter from marching band. I suppose my dad was happy to let her think that. One must be pretty ashamed of lettering in anything else when marching band is a more attractive alternative.
I thankfully can hold my head high in the knowledge that I lettered in something much more physically demanding, intellectually stimulating and above all, masculine. My extra curricular activity surpasses the derogation of monikers like "pig skin," "hoops" or even "America's past time." It practically stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting with a slice of apple pie in its hands. Indeed, it personifies macho Americana. Yes, you guessed it: Drama...
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