Observations on quality time with my 84 year old father, day 23

• Verbatim driving conversation
o Me – “Dad, are you checking out the ladies?”
o Dad – “I’m just looking at their hair.”
I’m thinking: ‘The ladies don’t have hair where you’re looking dad.’

• My wife and daughter came into town and joined me and my sisters to look through my mother’s clothing and jewelry. We had to assess what should be sold, kept for sentimental value or thrown out. I thought my father would join in and enjoy the time with his family. Even the sister who treats my father like he has the plague was there and acting pleasant. Like he did while my mother was in the hospital, he left after only a few minutes “to get coffee.” It comes down to the fact that he can’t get emotional in front of his children. I understand this whole “be a man” thing, and it can be embarrassing crying in public, but even Nixon cried at his wife’s funeral. Heck, I cried like a baby on my daughter’s shoulder a few months ago after it became apparent that my mother was not going to live much longer…sure, I had a few cosmopolitans to stoke the boiler, but if you can’t cry over your closest loved ones who can you cry about? Maybe he needs to drink something a little stronger than prune juice? Maybe I need to visit the dive bar real soon…I mean, eat some Korean food? Heck: I should just throw caution to the wind and take him to the dive bar. I bet we have some real quality time then!

• A friend of his tried contacting him on the facebook page he knew nothing about. As this fellow knows something about computers (according to the pre-senility mind of my dad), he wants to speak to him. I know what this means: it has to do with his long running efforts to get an appeal and new trial for his arson and insurance fraud conviction from the mid-90’s. He believes there is suppressed evidence that will “exonerate” him (What a pompous word, “exonerate”. He can’t say “prove my innocence”. He has to say “exonerate”) It’s also something I want nothing to do with. I told my dad I’d give this computer genius his phone number but I wasn’t getting involved in anything more than that. They spoke on the phone and my father wrote down his e-mail address to exchange more details.

o Dad – “Here’s his e-mail address Curt. Write him an e-mail.”
o Me – “Dad, you know how to write e-mails. I don’t want any part of this.”
o Dad – “I forget how to do it.”
o Me – “Let me see the address…….Dad: what is that?”
o Dad – “That’s his e-mail address.”
o Me – “It says ‘chengo#2’. That’s it? No “@ anything dot something’?”
o Dad – “Nope that’s what he gave me.”

After a large sigh, I contacted the computer genius again and got an actual e-mail address. By the way: My dad thinks anyone who can print a page of a Microsoft word document is a computer genius. I also think he’s guilty as hell.

© Curt Weiss 2014