Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Today is my dad’s birthday. His birthday is very close to Father’s Day and some years his birthday is actually on Father’s Day. You know the part about the apple not falling far from the tree? Well that’s me and my dad. I am just about his genetic clone. Well, except for the part about being 6’1 tall and being a boy. Much of who I am, I owe to my dad. I owe my entire existence to him, actually. He and my mom had a boy and a girl, at which point most parents would stop having children. They nearly did too, but then my dad wanted just one more. He talked my mom into it, and VOILA! I was born. Thanks, Dad!
My dad is a pretty interesting guy. He’s a doctor who also has his law degree. He’s a hunter and a photographer and grew up bilingual. (English and German) He has no accent anymore, but can and will reclaim the accent in public just to embarrass us.
Now my dad is one to never admit to his age. He’s over 60 on the outside, but on the inside, he’s more like a 7 year old boy. Nothing is funnier to him than farts. I get him every fart-themed gift I can find for Christmas, Father’s Day, and his birthday. You know the annoying bird clock, that chirps different bird calls every hour? Well I got him a fart clock. It has a different face every hour (mom, dad, grandpa, kid, dog, etc.) and with a different fart sound every hour. I’ve gotten him many shirts over the years with references/statements about farts. I got him a stuffed animal bear that is actually a remote activated farting bear. (he loves to use that one on people)
My dad has an intense compulsion to agitate others. He ALWAYS cheated when he played games with us as kids. It has nothing to do with winning. It’s all about agitating the people you are playing with. And of course I have the same compulsion. I cannot play without cheating. I try, but it pains me. I.... must.... cheat.....
My dad loves to sing. Just one thing though... he’s completely tone deaf. He knows it too. He’s trying to embarrass us. He has been leaving singing messages on my answering machine since I went to college. (my roommates LOVED that) He sings all the time for me on the phone and always offers to sing for me in public. Two of his all time favorite songs to sing to me are, “I’m Proud of You” (Mister Rogers) and “Julie, Julie, Julie Do You Love Me?” (Bobby Sherman) Of course I grew up never really knowing the real tunes of either of those songs.
That vintage circa 1980 picture above is of my father on the grizzly bear that ended up stuffed in our family room. My dad corrected me after reading my “Seven Random Things About Me” post. It’s an 8 and 1/2 foot Grizzly. Not an 8 foot Grizzly. Oh, and he says he did remind me to feed and water my rabbit. His words:
Dad: “Julie, you need to feed the bunny.”
Dad: “Julie, you need to water the bunny.”
Dad: “Julie, the bunny is dead.”
Speaking of the Grizzly bear, I would say my favorite reader question to date is:
“Oh, I was wondering, was it TOTALLY scary to wake up in the middle of the night and see that big a** bear standing there?”
Um, yes it was. I didn’t include a picture, but that Grizzly was only one of two large bears that were mounted and stuffed in our family room. I had dreams all the time that they would come alive and chase me through the house.... I’m running in slow motion as the bears quickly catch up with me.
So anyway... my dad. The one I owe and can blame for just about everything good and bad about me. Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you.