My father, William B. Sleadd, was stationed in Hawaii for all of World War II. He ran a PX on one of the Islands. He never had to fight with guns and stuff, but did frighten away the enemy with his hula.
Dad didn't understood my art, but thought several of my drawings looked like fried eggs.
I once tried to give him a sculpture I had made while in college. He said he didn't have a place to hang it. I told him he could hang it on his office wall at the Bank of Oldham County. He informed me that he had "those giant plastic pennies" up and didn't have any other wall space. I fried and ate the sculpture.
Dad lived in a nursing home during his final years and ate goldfish from the lounge aquarium.
