We were floating the Yakima River in his guide quality drift boat south of Ellensburg, Washington. We were miles from anything remotely resembling civilization. Rock canyon walls were on either side of us. Bear with me as I try to explain this strange thing.
His “Blackberry” rang. It was blue and I asked him why it wasn’t called a Blueberry. He shook his head with that ‘dealing with an elder’ despair look I get a lot these days. It was another realtor who called to say that the sellers he represented had agreed to my son’s client’s changes and he had the signed documents in hand.
Read the rest of What Would Dad Say here.
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