My dad was a good storyteller. He grew up on a farm in southern Minnesota in the days when there were no movie theaters or other kinds of entertainment, so my dad and his friends made their own fun. Judging by his stories, their entertainment involved a lot of pranks. Their imaginations really went wild at Halloween. Some of his stories I can't tell in public, but here's one I can tell. One Halloween night, my father and his friends snuck over to Uncle Ludwig's farm. They proceeded to systematically take apart Ludwig's old wooden cart, the big one he pulled behind the horses for picking corn. After they had it apart, they put the pieces in grain sacks and climbed up to the roof of the barn. Sitting way up there on top of the barn, they reassembled the cart. We kids would all collapse in gi…