Fatherly Advice or How to Make Sure That They Don't Put Onions on Your Burger
It was crowded at Onie’s, the lakefront hamburger joint. This was a regular stop on our family boating excursions on the large lake we loved so much. The lake boasted 525 miles of shoreline full of deep coves to explore. Dad was always Captain. We would seek out glass surfaced coves for skiing and private spots to anchor and swim. We would beach the boat on sandy, wooded islands and spend time hanging out with other boating enthusiasts. Mom might pack a picnic, or we would head to Onie’s place. Dad had mastered the skill of smoothly docking the boat. My job for as far back as I can remember was to jump out of the boat onto the dock and grab the handrail on the bow to make sure we stopped in just the right place. I knew how to do a quick and neat tie-off on the dock’s cleats. Boat secured, we headed into the grill pronounced Oh-Nies. That’s a long I and accent on first syllable. Mom secured a table for us. 525 miles of shoreline and onl...