Last July I went home to Tacoma. It was my first time home in the summer months in years. As a teen my summer days were spent sleeping in and working at the crappy sporting goods store down the road. If I was ever home at 3 when my dad got home from work he would drag me out of the house and down to his boat in Commencement Bay, Tacoma. I would help him put down crab pots and then sleep on the bow of the boat getting a "tan" (yeah right, this is Washington we are talking about), while he fished for salmon under the Narrows Bridge. As sunset neared he would wake me up to pull pots and collect crab to take home for dinner. As a teenager I HATED this. I was eternally bored and unimpressed (insert cringe here). But as I grew up, moved away and only visited home on occasions nostalgia kicked in and I would beg him to make time to take us out on the boat. Captain Jack deserves an award for putting up with a such a tortured teen as myself. Love you Dad <3
