My Dad is far from perfect.

My Dad is far from perfect.

Here is what I know about him:

He was born in 1960.  His birth mother raised him until he was 2 years old.  His earliest memory is sitting on the front porch of his grandma's house with his brother, a 2-liter bottle of 7up, (remember how cool the OLD 7 up logo was?) and a note.    They were no longer going to be the responsibility of his birth mother.

His grandma, who lived with her sister and uncle, raised him.  This explains why my dad, who is a relatively young 51, has the values and sensibilities of a 70 year old.

And, really, the hearing as well.

I digress.

He lived with his Grandma Meryl (whom he called Mom), his brother Steve, (whom he called Steve), his uncle Dave, his aunt Bess, his uncle Ron, and his uncle Teeny (I am not making these names up.)  He grew up in Paramount, which is where that movie logo was created.  (That mountain is nowhere in sight, though.)

By all accounts, he was the most normal of the bunch.  Aunt Bess never learned to drive, his uncle Ron looked like he was auditioning for a role in the movie Easy Rider, his brother Steve was a fancy pants who spent a little too much time worrying about his fashion choices, his aunt Bess, mom (now she is mom) Meryl, and uncle Dave owned and operated a wet-suit company, and his uncle Teeny...was...well...his name was Teeny. 

So, by default, Dad was the normal one.  But that doesn't mean he was normal by societies standards. 

Evidence: 

Dad liked gardening.  At a young age.  (I'm not making fun, mind you.  But how many junior high and high school students do you know that own and care for Staghorn Ferns?  [And on a side note, how many 40 something adults do you know that CRIED when that same Staghorn Fern finally died?]) 

Dad did not listen to music.  He grew up in the 60's and 70's, and if you asked him about the Beatles, he would think you are talking about the VW bug. 

Dad once buried his dead pet hamster in a coffee jar, because he heard that if you did that, it would skeletize rather quickly. 

Why that is weird: 

#1.  He wanted a skeleton of his dead pet hamster.

#2.  He either had to go look that information up, or he heard it and filed it away as an important fact to be acted on later.

#3.  He did it

#4.  He forgot to leave the lid OFF the can

#5.  He dug up his dead pet hamster some time later

#6.  If you leave the lid on, it doesn't skeletize, it explodes.

#7.  This is a story he told his kids when they were quite YOUNG

He did do normal things too.  He played football.  He went on backpacking trips with high-school buddies.  He was in the explorer’s academy.  He was mechanical.

Oh, I just remembered another thing.

He was crafty.  He made some sort of homemade craft that included some dried flowers, wooden spoons, and a glue gun.  He sold a boatload.  He called them "Jerry's spoons."  (I just made that name up)

Anyway, blah blah blah, he grows up.  To me it’s like trying to remember every episode of The Wonder Years.  I wasn't there, it was the 60's and 70's, Winnie was there, I think. 

He meets my mom in Explorers.  They go on a date.  My mom drops him like it’s hot. (I'm not sure what that means, but I know it's a saying.)

They get back together.  They get married.  The bridesmaids are wearing ridiculous yellow dresses.  My Dad has the coolest beard ever.  Its 1980.

I'm born 9 months later, exactly.  (Hello, Matterhorn room at the Madonna Inn on their honey-moon.)

My dad works construction. 

True story:  He went to a construction company, they didn't have any work.  He told them that he would work for free for the day, and if the boss liked his work ethic, he could keep him on.  It worked.  My dad is the hardest working person I know.  I'm fairly lazy, by all accounts.  But he makes me look LAZY, all caps.

Blah blah blah, my sister is born.  Two years and some change later.

We're a family.  We go camping a lot.  We live in Norwalk.  My dad has a moustache. 

He becomes a cop.  (I'm convinced the moustache has something to do with this.)

He works nights, crazy hours.  Apparently he sleeps during the day.  But he always spent time with us.  The most impressive thing about this to me: My Mom tells me how crazy Dad's schedule was, working over night, coming home, trying to get sleep during the day, etc.  But my sister and I DON'T REMEMBER ANY OF THAT.  Straight up.  My parents worked so hard to make sure they were there for us. 

We grow up, some.  We move from Norwalk to Frazier Park.  Dad is driving 90 miles one way to work.  We still don't feel an impact. 

True story:  Dad was sleeping on the couch.  His mom calls. 

"What are you doing?"  (Mom)

"Oh, just putting up the Christmas tree."  (Sleeping dad)

"Really?  Where are you putting it?"  (Mom)

"We're hanging it from the ceiling."  (Sleeping dad)

It was June. 

Let's see.  He teaches us anything we want to know.  We learn about tools, (did you know that Craftsmen tools have a lifetime warranty?  You can take a 100-year-old Craftsmen screwdriver to Home Depot, and if it’s broke, they will replace it.  For free.)  We learn about gardening.  (Did you know that Squanto taught the settlers to put eggshells and fish in the ground when they were plating corn?  [I actually learned that from a picture in a schoolbook.])  We eat at places like A&W, Fosters Freezes, and Bob's Big Boy, because that is what my dad grew up on, and what he likes.

Right.  Food.  Dad grew up on:  Gravy.  Potatoes.  Vegetables with bacon cooked in.  And some sort of battered and fried meat.  Or possibly a meat loaf.  That's it.  He never tasted rice until he was married to my mom.  How is this even possible?  He was convinced he didn't like cheese until well into his adult life. 

True Story:  Grandma Meryl used to make me the following snack: 

Piece of bread

Buttered

Jammed

Whipped cream all over the top

Anyway.  Back to the story.

My Dad is far from perfect.  He would be the first person to tell you that.  And I can attest. 

BUT.

Here are the facts as I see them:

1.  I don't know a more humble person

2.  He could easily beat me up

3.  Hardest working person I know

4.  Extremely helpful.  He just weedwacked half of my property YESTERDAY!  Why?  It needed to get done, and he ran out of things to do on his own property, I guess.  (Honest answer:  He knew it was stressing me out and I didn't have time to get to it, so he just did it for me.)

5.  Loves talking to people.  Mr. Asks Questions.

6.  He is a father to those that don't have one.  He has always been a magnet to friends and family with less fortunate family situations. 

7.  He always has a cut, bruise, scrape, or worse on his hands. 

(He will use a DRILL to punch through a fingernail, if it’s turning purple underneath.  Horror movie stuff.)

Dang it, I can't leave this out:  He has used a DREMIL TOOL to SELF PERFORM DENTAL WORK.  MORE THAN ONCE.

8.  He can watch someone build, fix, repair, or construct something once, then go and do it himself.

9.  He doesn't see the point in TV when the sun is still up.

10.  He loves the Lord, and knows that he doesn't deserve the love and grace God has given him.

11.  He's a really good dad.

12.  He is the town sheriff.  Literally. 

He gave the eulogy at my father-in-laws funeral.  My father-in-law asked him to.  Because in the few short years they knew each other, my father-in-law saw the kind of person my Dad is, and knew that he was the man he wanted speaking to all of his friends and family after he passed on. 

He is a great Dad to my wife now, too. 

Dad has had his share of humbling experiences.  Where I once saw Superman, I now see Clark Kent.  Its like Superman was the alter ego this whole time, and Clark is the real deal. 

I wouldn't have it any other way.

6-18-11

7:44am