This usually entails me sending a card with a very generic message that gets there a week early and an awkward phone conversation usually discussing what television shows he likes and prodding me with questions about the dvds he sends me. I decided to get this over with earlier in the week so I didn't call today.
But it is Dad's Day and people always say dads don't get enough love. In that spirit, I'll say something.
Oh, Dad... I guess I should say a couple of things about the guy.
He didn't speak until he was nearly four. The story goes, one day he asked for a sandwich. "Dempse, why haven't you ever talked before?" Mimi, my grandmother, gasped. He shrugged, "I never had anything to say."
I get all my coloring from him: the black hair, the really pale skin.
He's a serious practical joker. He was always popping out to scare me or moving things around to confuse people. He does not, however, appreciate it when the joke is on him.
He sounds just like Foghorn Leghorn. When he gets annoyed with me, he says, "Ah say, ah say, Lan..."
His cooking is so good it has mostly spoiled other people's home cooking for me. His specialty is steak which he believes should only be eaten rare. I'm talking bloody. If you ask for medium, he'll laugh condescendingly and give you a slightly less rare steak. He can also do wonders with seafood.
He is a walking antiques roadshow. He knows about most antiques from china to Chippendale to 18th century glass flytraps.
He looks a lot like Van Morrison does these days. (See picture)
He is open to trying all kinds of cuisines and dishes and is not easily intimidated. He couldn't quite hang with Andrew Zimmern but would tag along with that asshole Bourdain any day of the week.
I still can't really answer the question of what exactly he does for a living.
Here's a recording of me telling a story about him. It is a prime example how he can't handle a joke. This is my first foray into recording stories but I'm trying to get better. (i.e. please excuse the "um's" and awkward silences).