My Dad: Bunker Builder #1
This is the guy who made it all happen.
My Dad (AKA, SweetLambChop) is the #1 reason there is a Bunker at all.
He was the guy who got me my first Atari 2600 (a Sears Telegames). When I was in grade school, he did contracting work for a TV store, and they paid him in merchandise, so he was always bringing me home cartridges. This put video games in my blood.
When I was 14, he got me my first computer. A Commodore 128! However, I must admit… he wasn’t that happy when all I did on it was play games. This put computing in my brain.
All throughout my early years, he took me on contracting jobs with him. Sometimes I liked it, sometimes I didn’t. But… I did learn how things are built, and that you can build anything if you try. This attitude is what led me to build my first 386 PC from scratch when I had never had experience with anything other than my C-128, Mac LC, or Amiga.
Eventually, in my first house, I tried my first major solo building project. This led to a lot of phone calls to Pa. I did a decent job, and had some pretty lofty goals (one of the things I am most proud of is the computer room window, that I just had to have, and he thought was crazy.) I did the first half myself, with a few thousand mistakes. He came and did the other half, and it was perfect.
I ended up selling that house for twice as much and within 2 days of listing it, and the realtor said it as because the basement (the Bunker) was so great. It also had a lot to do with my dad coming out and painting and fixing all the stuff that I had screwed up over the years that I lived there.
Fast forward to now, and Bunker 2.0. There wasn’t much of a “half” this time. My dad has built every bit of the basement. Starting with the storage room within the first 2 months, then he came back to do the theater/lan room (he had no idea what I was really going to turn this into!) Third, he did the DDR Room and the Bathroom (He thinks the TV would be better in his house than on my bathroom wall, but that’s a different story.) And Finally, he finished the Garage about a month ago.
Each time he does this, he packs my mom and all his tools into the back of his truck, and drives 1200 miles each way. Busts his ass while I am at work, and later when I come home and try to weasel out of doing anything. (For some reason, I didn’t inherit his power source, or it is broken, or I let it get decroded.)
And… he does all this with a raised eyebrow. A sort of “you want to do what?!” look. Which sometimes manifests itself as a “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard” look.
On the last day of the last project (the garage) we had a last-minute “show my dad what a Bunker Party looks like” Bunker Party. He and Jjam shot the breeze and talked about manly things, while everybody else had a much less manly game of 4-way Donkey Konga and Singstar Pop. By the time we got to anything remotely macho (UT2K4 Assault) he was passed out in bed. The 2-weeks of building had finally caught up with him.
Those are the times when I think, “I wish he would take it easy.” But on the other hand, I’m so grateful for all the stuff he has done. I keep telling him that once “it’s finished” he should come back and we can watch movies and play games and go out to eat the whole time. But I am sure we’ll spend the first day watching “Commando” and “The Final Countdown”… then I’ll try to show him the newest hottest game out, and he’ll humor me for a few minutes. Then, ultimately he’ll go find something wrong in the attic, or under the deck, or decide to rewire all the lights in the guest room, and I’ll find myself with a list of stuff to pick up at Home Depot.
So it goes.
BTW, that picture up there is real, and the story that explains it is far less interesting, so I’ll leave it to your imagination. Here are some that are less… frightening.
Just kidding… here’s a more dignified shot:
Thanks Dad! I love you!
