My mailbox, inbox and phone have been overrun with political messaging and like all good men I have shared thoughts and ideas with some of the the fine folks.
One telemarketer asked me if I was going to support Nikki Haley when she appeared in Fort Worth and I said I was one of the performers.
“I am doing a sequel to a Barry Manilow song called “You Need More Than A Weekend In New England.”
This caught them off guard and I kept going and said I intended to put myself into a shmata and do a mambo and 613 other dances.
They didn’t know how to respond and babbled something about not being familiar with what I was talking about and I said that was because they were part of the phone bank and not the Cuyahoga Color Guard.
“What is that?”
“Something that comes from the heights but could be found on Ventura Boulevard and or walking through the rough streets of Encino.”
They quickly ended the call and I am certain they wondered why they agreed to volunteer. I also wondered where the hell I come up with some of the crazy stuff that comes from my mouth.
But then a 62 year-old man asked if I wanted to meet him behind a building to settle our differences. I suggested it was a bad idea because I don’t like beating on men who need walkers.
I Am Your Huckleberry
My daughter was nine the first time I moved to Texas. She asked if she was going to have to get a funny accent to live here and whether she would get a horse.
Somehow that led to a conversation in which I was told it wouldn’t be nice if I beat up her boyfriends so I promised not to beat to them up but to put them on a stagecoach.
She didn’t like that idea either and told me that when she was old enough to have a boyfriend I would have to listen to her and not beat them up or send them away.
A while back she mentioned that one of the guys she knows had irritated her and I said he was small enough for me to grab him by the neck and shake some sense into him.
I heard her say “Ok Dad” which was code for “move on” and said I could hitch him to a stagecoach. She didn’t even acknowledge hearing that but I think I might have heard her giggle.
Not sure, could have been my imagination but I’ll take it. Used to be easy to get her to laugh at the ridiculous stuff, now it is not so frequent.
I thought about trying to find some videos of when she played soccer to share. She was one hell of a defensive player and there were a few times she ran through other girls.
That might make this silly boy wake up, or maybe not.
Anyhoo, that is neither here nor there but I did tell her if she was irritated by him again to tell him that her father said “I am your Huckleberry.”
She didn’t get the reference and I doubt that he would either, but it made me feel good.
I said it to the 62 year-old man who was jawing at me about going behind the building to work out our disagreement.
He did understand it and he didn’t like it when I said I don’t like beating up men who need walkers. He doesn’t and he has a good six inches in height on me but neither of us were serious about the building.
When he asked me why I insisted on not giving in I told him I wasn’t in the habit of saying things people want to hear.
“If it makes you feel good to believe that nonsense you go ahead and do so. Bear in mind I have the emails and I have no reason to wear a sweater just because you’re cold.”
Eventually he laughed and told me I was ridiculously stubborn.
“Nah, you’re just used to being bigger than everyone and loud. That doesn’t bother me.”
He laughed again and said I was right.
I should have recorded that and put it on a t-shirt because I have been wrong about quite a bit.
There have been several big changes that were unexpected recently and for the first time in a long while I tried to call my father.
Well, I thought I ought to call him but I never take out the phone because I realized he wouldn’t answer.
Snorted after I almost did it because I realized he never heard anything about the events before these changes so none of it would make sense.
So I threw this picture into the post because there are those moments where I can feel his presence and it is like his arm is just close enough to grab me.
Moments where I could take his hand and tug on it to get his attention like I was still a little boy.
The weird thing to me is that picture of his hand and arm is like looking at my own. But then again I am 10 years older now than he was in the picture and that seems strange to me too.
35 years later and life is quite different than I would have imagined it to be.
Recent Posts
- Maybe I’ll Never Write You Again
- Facebook Videos, Blog Posts & The Naked Pictures Exchange
- Maybe The Beard Ought To Go
