Ode To A Fingerwave

Where I grew up … we gave the finger to everyone … actually two fingers.

In my home town you greet everyone.

It doesn’t matter whether you know them or not.

You acknowledge them.

You welcome them.

You give them the tw0-finger wave.

The poem above came to my attention last weekend when I returned to my hometown for my uncle’s visitation and funeral services. The poet is my cousin, Paul. The man in the pickup truck is my uncle, Warren Earl “Jake” Jacobson.

Uncle Jake is a great example of how open, warm and helpful most people are when they grow up in Midwestern small towns and their parents, family, and friends are great role models for them to emulate.

Jake was an electrician. It is likely that he has worked on every home in town at one time or another. He was active in the community and was always available to help someone when they needed it.

Our poet, Paul, is Jake & Betty’s second son. In his career as an airline pilot, he has met people from all over the world as he shuttled them from one continent to another. So, he is in a good position to know how people act in different places and from different cultures. He and his family have lived in several different parts of the USA, but Fingerwavehe still exhibits his small town Midwestern roots.

If you see him driving somewhere,
he is likely to
give you the finger(s).

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