I'm still waiting for that to happen, which is why I'm not making that drive to my hometown tomorrow. I can't relax when it's just him and I together, since he's unbelievably uptight and never misses an opportunity to lecture me on some fault of mine. Oh but some day that'll change, right? Nah, putting things in perspective I shouldn't be complaining because I do have good parents and turned out well. But if I could trade less work ethic, obsession over quality, etc. to be closer to my dad... I'd do it in a heartbeat.
Yea that sucks, my pops is the opposite. He refuses to talk about negative things when we hang out, despite my best attempts to bitch about random pointless things. I was forunate, he never brought work home, never talked about what he did. When he was around me and my siblings, thats what he was focused on, while he may have been thinking of work or other stresses, but he never mentioned it.
My dad's been gone for a while, almost ten years. The strange thing is even after all this time, not really sure I knew him all that well, and yes, he lived with us. Smart guy, worked hard, very old school. I still miss him, even though we didn't always see eye to eye. I guess the older I get, the more I understand that sometimes the best you can do is try, and that he did.
My dad has been gone almost exactly 10 years. He was my best friend. Not in a permissive, wants to hang out with me and my friends kind of way, but in that we had a great time being together, he always supported me, and he was a good dad. I try to be the same to my daughter, and its funny to see some of my dad's traits manifesting themselves in how I interact with her.
Shouldn't there be a question mark after "Daddy"? Well, dang, this thread is all serious. Here is some theme-related nudity to liven things up: I say related, because her necklace might say "Daddy." Which, is actually kinda weird to wear for a nude photo shoot. Maybe it says "Puddy." And, that's not weird at all.
Who's your daddy? That is touching. I hope she sends him a card, although, they may screen her mail at the prison.
I wonder how long he'll tolerate having to make the constant reassurances and dealing with the constant need for affirmation and validation. Yuck.
I get along great with my Dad these days, when I was younger not so well. I've definitely inherited my tolerance to alcohol from him among a few things. Crown you were posting about OMC - How Bizarre before. Here is another version that was kicking around when I was in school in NZ.
How do you guys deal with the humanization of your parents? The older we get the more clearly we see their flaws. I love my parents...but goddamn do I not want to sit and have a beer with them right now.
I'd love nothing more than a beer with my old man right now. Since I've grown up and he has mellowed a little (He used to be a violent alcoholic at times) we've had some absolutely hilarious times drinking together. It was a bit of a shock a couple of years ago when I realised that I now had him covered for strength after for years being shit scared of getting a hiding. Old bastard can still flog me in an arm wrestle though.
As they're getting older they're becoming people whose life views are so contrary to mine it's depressing. And their house - back five or six years ago they nearly divorced. They never 'got over' all of that, I think, and now their house is just kind of flat. Not a lot of joy. I'd love to have a beer. Just not with both of them at the same time.
The odds of me having a beer with both of my parents at the same time is near impossible seeing as how the only time they're in the room together is at special occasions involving my nephew and my sister forbids alcohol around him. Drinking with Dad involves drunkenness, drinking with Mum normally doesn't.
My dad has been dead for 24 years. Most of what I know about him is second hand. What does a 9 year old know of his father anyway but the surface? As I got older I figured out what made him tick. We share the same mind and moods. So it was kind of endearing knowing some of my idiosyncrasies were his as well. He was an architect, left behind a small legacy. There are a few of his buildings around town including a beach house on Palm Beach Island and a Scottish Rite Temple that would make Frank Lloyd Wright slide off his seat. A few years ago one of Nashville's papers ran a piece on the house he built for my uncle in '68. The new owner did a renovation, and someone must have noticed this sharp angled craftsman house jutting out of the woods; voila, an article. 40 years after the house was built, 18 after he died he finally got a little recognition. Dad was also a painter. A good one. He probably could have made a name for himself doing beachscapes in The Keys. It's a talent that never materialized in myself. I can't draw for shit. Much like his networking skills. God, the man had friends. He knew hundreds of people in one way or another. His funeral was enormous. My introversion is far more chronic than his ever was apparently. Somewhere along the line the idea of him being nothing but human took root. Same with my mom. I don't recall a time in any recent memory where I saw them as a child would see them, as gods (to borrow from Palahniuk). Possibly because I saw their weaknesses so young, maybe because I never had the opportunity to be challenged by them.
My Dad is a tough situation. He and I have a great relationship now--when I was younger, not so much (his job was his life and he was away or working a lot). There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn't like him, but none of them have to do with him and me, only him and others (he left my mother while she was in cancer treatment and he constantly backs out of promises with my sister). But the fact remains that he and I, when our relationship is isolated from all the bullshit around us, are fine. We get along great. I attribute this to the fact that when all the shit hit the fan I was old enough (24?) to be able to let other people deal with the stuff they had going on with him and just focus on our relationship. I don't play in the middle...ever. Staying somewhat on focus, I've kind of devoted my free time this week to something I wish my dad had taught me, but never did--how to sharpen a knife on a whetstone. A couple months ago, my mom gave me a new pocket knife from the company next to hers where she works that turned out to be a sample, and the blade was just a blank with no edge at all. So this week I turned it from a blank into something I can literally shave with. The black finish on the blade is a little beat up, but it's made of decent steel (VG10) and is damn sharp now. It was a perfect learner knife. Now every knife in my house is scary sharp--my everyday pocket knife is possibly the sharpest knife I've ever held--and even my hatchet has an amazing edge now. Might've just found my zen hobby.
I wish my dad was who he used to be before I was born. He was a concert promoter/organizer, and helped bring some big-name acts to town like George Clinton, Procal Harem and Slade. He got me into music. Then he started liking Hall & Oates and Toto so I slid away from his tune tastes.
Yard Sale tomorrow. Any youze guys wanna buy a Ikea Lack coffe table you can lift up and scratch your back with? Also my kid's been at it since birth, so it looks like Rodan used it as a toothpick. Fuckin' BUY SOMETHING!!!!
HAHAHAHA, One of the Suggested Posts on FB is an ad for Teespring and the Fuck You Todd and Jessica shirt is the display.
I hope you make enough money to make it worth the effort. That said, the chances of that happening are about as likely as me ice skating on the surface of the sun. That toothpick coffee table? Some asshole is going to nickel and dime you down to 37.64 cents (or whatever fucking currency you have) over the course of 55 minutes while they hold an armful of other items they never intend to buy. That event will repeat itself countless times over the 12 hours you subject yourself to those people with the most mundane "goods" you have for sale until you stare at that toothpick coffee table (cause after all that haggling, it just "wouldn't match their old Wilco TV aquarium" and they left) and wonder just how many times you have to drop your throat on the corner until your jugular bursts and you just fade away into the sweet, sweet darkness. But seriously, have a great day. Enjoy the fanny-pack spotting.