Ten years ago or so I wrote about the family nemesis, Dicky Purdy. Newer Spo-fans may find this amusing as he’s been much on my mind as I am planning a family gift.

When my father and his brother were boys, their father would ask his sons (as fathers do) to take out the trash or mow the lawn -now.  As sons do they promised their dad they would do it, but not right now. “Oh fine,” Grandpa Spo would say, “I’ll get Dicky Purdy to do it”.  The Purdys lived down the street, and their son Richard was either a very good boy who always did what his father asked him to do or he was a bit ‘slow’.  Whatever he really was they boy was the bludgeon to bop on Father’s and Uncle’s heads to get them up and going.  Sometimes they did a job of which Grandfather would find fault.  “Dicky Purdy could have done this better!” which supports the hypothesis he was a bit of a dimwit.

You can see where this is going. My brothers and I along with our cousins all grew up with our fathers conjuring the demon that is Dicky Purdy to get our lead-butts moving.  Dicky Purdy (whom none of us have ever met) is passed down from generation to generation. Once I asked the nephews Thing One and Thing Two if they have ever heard of Dicky Purdy. Rolling their eye and replying with a touch of rancor, oh yes, they have heard of Dicky Purdy – frequently –  and if they ever should meet the man they would pummel him.

I remember once meeting up with my cousins at an airport but could not find them, when I heard over the speaker “Dicky Purdy! Dicky Purdy! Your party is waiting for you at Gate B3!” where I went to meet up with my cackling cousins.

Kat, my future ex-wife, recently opened a T-shirt business. I’ve asked her to make a dozen shirts which I plan to surprise all my brothers, my cousins, and their children.

I hope they like it.