You Were My Dad, You Were So Rad...

Once again circumstances have forced me to break my "funny posts only" here on the old blog. My dad died suddenly about a month after my grandma died. Well, it was sudden to my sister and I; my mom said he had been dealing with more and more health issues.

Your family members are your first role models, for good or ill, and mine did a good job; they kept my sister off the stripper pole and me from being a performance artist.

Among other things, dad taught me what lures work for what fish, how to read a body of water, how to smell an approaching rain storm, and how to punch without breaking your thumb. He also took me to all the Star Wars, Star Trek, and Superman movies. Did he fall as crazy for Star Wars as I did? Probably not, but he still looked at and encouraged dozens, if not hundreds of my artistic renderings of Darth Vader and assorted battle scenes.

He made up stories every night for both me and my sister when we were little. I don't remember much about them now, of course, other than vague themes.  I seem to remember his studies of Native Americans played a big role.

As a teenager and a punk rocker, I had to rebel against what I saw as his narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways. No matter how bad family battles got, however, there was always a reprieve on the river.

And as much as I fought against him, I've found throughout the years that I share many of his traits, along with a lot of the anxieties and neuroses which I had no idea at all that he had until recently. My annoying habit of coming up with a project idea and having to start right now? That's totally inherited, as is my nightstand covered with a pile of books to read before falling asleep.

Some of these projects seemed like sheer torture at the time, but afterwards, they gave me a sense of pride - like how I can now replace a car's cooling system, thanks to an all-afternoon project that I swore was never going to end.

Along with having us, dad served and was wounded in Viet Nam, which led to him discussing all the ways to keep me out of the hypothetical Gulf War I draft. It also stopped him from both hunting and attending church. We always wanted to ask him about the war, but never really felt comfortable, and now it's too late.

He saw six continents, earned a PhD, led a teacher's strike, was married for 48 years, taught science and history, and taught his kids how to make an impressive marinara sauce. Did he know how much we loved, respected, and appreciated him before he died? I hope so. Unfortunately I also inherited his tendency to keep my emotions and feelings buried and so a lot of our conversations were kind of surface.

So as hard as it might be, make sure to tell your parents how much they meant to you, even if you have to lie a little bit, or write an anonymous note or something. Trust me, it'll make everyone feel a lot better.

I'm looking forward to getting back to the funny soon.

Days of Fish and Death

So my girlfriend arranged a whole Valentine's Day surprise for me. She wouldn't tell me anything about it, only that the day had a theme. I would find out later the theme was "fish and death," which there's no way I would have figured out. Oh, don't act like you would have got it, you would have been as clueless as me.

Things got off late thanks to my drive the night before, since I sort of hit a deer. I guess. It was in the middle of the interstate and I thought it was a log. I heard this huge crash when I hit it and pulled over to the creepiest gas station ever, surveyed the damage and drove the remaining 2 hours in a state of fear and sweat. It wasn't until the next morning that we noticed that the log left hair on my bumper.

So I'm dealing with insurance and wondering what's going to happen, but was remarkably able to relax and go with the day's theme (which was not revealed to me until the end).

First up, Atlanta Aquarium. This place is awesome! We got to see all the stars - otters, penguins, sharks, all your A-teamers.

We also got to hang out at Jellyfish Wall. Check it out:

I don't know why rich people buy boring stuff like yachts and memorial walls at hospitals. When I get rich (hey, there's still time), I'm buying a wall of jellyfish. I will sit in front of it in a leather chair wearing a smoking jacket petting a cat while I plot my kung fu treachery. And yes, I like how I went from rich to Bond villain in about 3 seconds.

And of course, any aquarium that doesn't have lots of stuff that can kill you isn't worth your time:

Piranha 3D!

It was also cool just hanging out and looking at fish whose friends and family I caught and ate:

Hangin' with Mister Grouper

After looking at fish for a few hours, it was off to part two, Oakland Cemetery. It was cold.

This is right after a ghost told me not to be shitty about Christmas

We had a pretty awesome tour, then we wandered the cemetery on our own, writing poetry and reflecting upon the futility of life.

Actually, I was thinking about the ending of "The Good, The Bad and the Ugly."

After that, we ate about 30 pounds of seafood across the street. I think that's where the ugly fish from the aquarium end up.

Oh crap! She also got me this awesome shirt - check it out:

If you live in Murray Hill, or I've driven you around, you'll recognize this as the logo on the baseball field. Every time I pass it I say, "I wish I had a shirt like that." Now I do. I figure I'm either gonna lead a team of scrappy kids from the poor side of town (which I guess is Murray Hill) to a baseball championship, or I'll have to start a gang or a doo-wop band.

She also collected all my old Myspace blog posts in a book, bound with fine Corinthian leather. So yeah, I really made out.

Guess I'll really have to up my game next year from this year's half-off day old candy and flowers from the gas station.

A Pale and Sensitive Lad

Got a blood test early Tuesday morning. This morning I happened to glance down at my forearm and it's all yellow and purple. I think I can also detect a faint throbbing as the poison works its way through my veins. I knew Nurse Ratched was being a little jabby with the needles, now I'm wondering if she didn't slip some ebola in me just out of evil. I'd post a picture, but my no flash camera phone makes my whole arm look a lovely jaundiced yellow anyway, so you wouldn't get the full horror.