A Postcard for Dwayne
Surprise! I also wanted to be a pilot!
Dear Dwayne,
I'm posthumously sending you this phantom postcard from the eternal realm of Valhalla. Don't be alarmed--I just need to tell you that, ever since you started your dumb little "will to power" hush-fest (up to and including the day I died), I had been living vicariously through you! Moreover, you have now been officially possessed by my cantankerous ghost! OoOoOo! Creepy! Hahaha, I'm just kidding. But seriously, once I magically found out that you wouldn't get into the Air Force, I wanted you to know that I once shared your dream. To be perfectly honest, I really wanted you to succeed on your own terms. Our road trip for Olive made me realize just how much stuff I didn't get to do in my life, plus all the stuff I did really badly. The point I'm trying to make is to not worry about it. See, I also (magically) observed that Frank had a nice discussion with you about suffering. He's such a downer! It's unbelievable, right? But he speaks the truth. You shouldn't go after that young stuff right now. You shouldn't snort heroin all day, even when you're old. You shouldn't complain about having chicken every night, either. But you should take things as they come and enjoy the ride. Holy crap, I'm turning into a dead man walking cliché. Anyway, you seem to have learned the importance of familial bonding, but what about contribution? Your dad's attitude could use some work. Olive has body image problems. Frank needs to come to grips with his romantic relationships. And your mom needs help sorting these goofy folks out. Contribute, Dwayne. Remember...
See you later (OoOoOo!),
Grandpa Edwin Hoover