Dad called the other day and said he would like me to take him out for breakfast on Saturday because all of his friends were dead. I replied, “Come on Dad, no they are not. What about Jack, he lives right in your complex and you just had breakfast with him last week.” Well, that was it, Jack died and I didn’t even know it. Jack was about 15 years older than Dad-who is 80 years old.
“Dad, what about Al?” “He is dead too, died after losing that last $1,100 at the casino a month ago, so I never had to pay him back the $1,000 I owed him.” Dad has been a gambler his whole life. He was a business man, owned his own carpet store for 50 years-Home Means More With Carpet On The Floor-Carpetland. Growing up we were always provided for, Dad could gamble with the best of them, but always knew when to stop-we never ended up in the gutter. In fact, he even sent me to college at my request and threw money at me anytime I wanted. He learned at an early age that you always paid your gambling debts or you would end up with cement on your feet at the bottom ofNiagara River . I remember Dad leaving for work one day in the Lincoln Continental, and coming home at midnight in an old beat up jeep. He lost the Lincoln
To this day I still have jewelry, art work, and antiques that were all won in poker games. I have never had any of it appraised as I am sure it was “Hot” and I would be arrested if anyone knew I had it. Oh well, but Dad is so much more than a business man and a gambler, he is crazy.
A few months ago Dad called me from his condo and said he was going to shoot the painters because they were pulling out his plants to paint the walls. I pleaded with him to go back inside his condo and behave himself. Luckily for us his neighbors are quite used to him and they didn’t overreact. By the time the police came he was calmly sitting in his living room watching CNN and complaining about the Jews andIsrael
His grandchildren call him Grandpa Cigar due to the fact that up until his cancer diagnosis he always had a cigar in his mouth. Dad was stationed inJapan Phoenix
I could go on and on, I could fill volumes with his shenanigans over the years. Instead I will just pick him up and take him to Ihop for breakfast. He will order his pancakes with strawberries, one egg over easy and one egg up side down, well done bacon and black coffee. Then he will tell me about all the juicing he has been doing and the price of bananas, blueberries, and ice cream. He will tell the waitress how lucky he is to have 3 beautiful children (now 50, 54, and 58). He will embarrass the people that sit down next to us, and start complaining about George W. Bush. Another Saturday with Dad.
“Dad, what about Al?” “He is dead too, died after losing that last $1,100 at the casino a month ago, so I never had to pay him back the $1,000 I owed him.” Dad has been a gambler his whole life. He was a business man, owned his own carpet store for 50 years-Home Means More With Carpet On The Floor-Carpetland. Growing up we were always provided for, Dad could gamble with the best of them, but always knew when to stop-we never ended up in the gutter. In fact, he even sent me to college at my request and threw money at me anytime I wanted. He learned at an early age that you always paid your gambling debts or you would end up with cement on your feet at the bottom of
To this day I still have jewelry, art work, and antiques that were all won in poker games. I have never had any of it appraised as I am sure it was “Hot” and I would be arrested if anyone knew I had it. Oh well, but Dad is so much more than a business man and a gambler, he is crazy.
A few months ago Dad called me from his condo and said he was going to shoot the painters because they were pulling out his plants to paint the walls. I pleaded with him to go back inside his condo and behave himself. Luckily for us his neighbors are quite used to him and they didn’t overreact. By the time the police came he was calmly sitting in his living room watching CNN and complaining about the Jews and
His grandchildren call him Grandpa Cigar due to the fact that up until his cancer diagnosis he always had a cigar in his mouth. Dad was stationed in
I could go on and on, I could fill volumes with his shenanigans over the years. Instead I will just pick him up and take him to Ihop for breakfast. He will order his pancakes with strawberries, one egg over easy and one egg up side down, well done bacon and black coffee. Then he will tell me about all the juicing he has been doing and the price of bananas, blueberries, and ice cream. He will tell the waitress how lucky he is to have 3 beautiful children (now 50, 54, and 58). He will embarrass the people that sit down next to us, and start complaining about George W. Bush. Another Saturday with Dad.
2 comments:
He orders his eggs one turned over and the other one upside down.
Our father is a crazy, hypocritical, bigotted, socially inept, dark, over-the-top character who's only happy while "in action" or "busing your balls", one of his favorite phrases and activities.
He lives to get a rise out of everyone. And feeds off doom and gloom.
And, if it had not been for his family, he would have died alone on the street years ago.
But, he's our dad...our only dad. And as the poster of this blog would say, "It is what it is".
He is a prophet-- the Cassandra of our age, whom no one would listen to until it was too late.
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