I am from a rusty old Chevy truck, from greasy Craftsman tools and WD-40.

I am from a house on a hill with creaky floors and loud echoing voices.
I am from the trees of the San Bernardino Mountains, and the tall towering pines that grow there.
I am from a backwoods camping family, entwined in the redneck society. From Dave the detailed
mountain man, and Grandpa Bruce the stubborn NRA enthusiast.
I am from the technology age where parents ask their children for help and a family of arrogant
conservatives criticizing the Democratic Party.
From not wallowing in the past but learning from it, and the chivalry term Ladies first.
I am from the Christian faith who finds amenity in God.
I am from the hot California desert who before came from the great country of Italy; where
lasagna and more lasagna bring my family together, but makes us fight over who gets the leftovers.
From the Freezing U.P. Michigan a would be 119 year old WWI veteran came a great grandpa
that I never knew; a postman that would deliver mail in the cold Michigan snow and for what I
have been told was a great people person.
I am from a family of memories who believe that on every holiday pictures must be taken to
capture the moment. From a family that owns 9 cars just because we can, and many historical
artifacts from pervious wars.