Memoir of Right-Fielder

Right field.

I know what I’m talking about. My dad has this green pickup truck that we keep in the back yard unless we need to use it. I think we’re the only ones in the entire family who have a truck because relatives are always calling asking him to move stuff for them. Of course, because I’m the only son still around, I get lassoed into helping out. We’ve had to take things to the dump loads of times. Mattresses and old mirrors, things like that. I’ve seen how smelly and disgusting the pla...