My dad taught me many things in my life.
He taught me that most things can be fixed with duct tape and WD-40. And if it can't be, then I should just call him.
He taught me to check the oil and tires before I leave on any trip and that you should plan to leave by 1:00 if you're really shooting for 4:00.
He taught me to pitch a softball, make a freethrow, sink the 8 ball, and shoot dice. He taught me to ride a bike and roller skate and he tried to teach me how to drive a stick shift (or how to read the owner's manual and figure it out on my own).
He taught me that humor is a common language, and he helped me master the art of a well-timed one-liner.
He taught me about working hard and playing hard. He taught me that you have to earn a win and that by earning it, it's even more meaningful.
My dad could shoot pool with either hand, play 18 holes one-handed, or beat you at dominos giving up a 50 point advantage.
He loves babies, animals, fried fish, and Little Debbie snack cakes. He always wore a pearl snap shirt, lambchop sideburns, and a baseball cap. He's still rarely seen without a ball cap. He's flawed, just like the rest of us, but his imperfections and struggles have never stopped him.
He's been a farmer, a night-club manager, a small business owner, a volunteer firefighter, a pilot, a race-car driver, a long-haul trucker. But mostly he's just been my dad. And I'm pretty damn thankful, every day, for that.
This is my dad.
My dad was the first in his family to graduate from college. I was the second. And I'm proud to have graduated from his alma mater.
This is my dad and my mom. Although it's Father's Day, I feel like she needs an appearance too. He'd be the first to tell you that without Wanda, there is no Dean. They just celebrated their 40th anniversary last month.