10 Things About the Birthday Boy

I was just over chez Waffles making a comment about, well, arson and my dad's reaction to it, and it naturally made me think of the old man, because as I mentioned recently to my boy Lightning, today marks what would have been my dad's 79th birthday. And rather than drag you (and myself) through yet another emotionally-charged remembrance that will only lead to tears - mostly yours, and mostly of boredom -  I've decided to go a different direction utterly.  I'm going to tell you 10 things about my dad, what made him him, the things that made him laugh, the things that scared him, his greatest triumphs and a few failures too. Why 10 and not 25?  I don't have that kind of time, but if you guys clamor for it, which I doubt, I'll whomp up another batch.

1.  Dad just loved a pie in the face.  The Three Stooges made him laugh time after time. For being a man of surprising sophistication, his sense of humor was decidedly juvenile.

2.  He was a mechanic - the only Jewish mechanic I've ever heard of - and he could fix anything he touched, given enough time and a schematic. He saved our family tens of thousands of dollars over the years by fixing things around the house that mere mortals would have to replace.

3.  He had several professional certifications; he was a licensed Steam Fireman, Steam Engineer, Master Pipefitter, Oil Burner Technician, and more that I'm sure I've forgotten.  When he hurt his back in the '70s and feared that he would no longer be able to work with his hands, he studied and studied and became a licensed real estate broker.  That was the kind of guy he was.

4. One night on an unlit road near where he lived, he hit a pedestrian with his car.  He visited the girl in the hospital a few times until her family made it quite clear that he was less than welcome in their lives. It was a remorse and a disappointment that he bore, like everything else he bore, stoically.

5.  His mother died at sixty. He was afraid that he would suffer the same fate, and the day he turned 61 it was like a Volkswagen was lifted off his chest.

6.  From 1969 through 1980, he worked for TWA.  As a result we were able to fly often and inexpensively.  More than once we'd fly from Boston to San Francisco for dinner.  It was a good flight for us to take because, as non-revenue passengers, we needed empty seats, and the return trip, TWA flight 11, SFO to BOS, was late enough for us to have a good time and would almost always be nearly empty as it crossed the country back to Boston.

7.  Dad was an atheist but his shelf was full of religious books, arcane treatises on the finer points of Judaism, Talmudic commentary and lore, and explanations of ritual and ceremony. It's almost like he needed to KNOW that it was all a bunch of bullshit.

8.  When he was in his mid '50s, he took a hard look at his retirement plan and realized that he needed to do a better job providing for the family after he retired, so he quit his job and got the first job he could find working for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  It was for the Mass. Water Resources Authority - the guys that ran the sewers.  For three years he raked shit through a screen until a job that used his skills came up.  He did this so that his wife and children could be better provided for.

9.  Dad could be generous in the most unusual moments.  He and I were driving in our hometown when a teenager ran a stop sign and hit us mildly.  He got out and made sure the kid was ok, who said "what the hell happened?" Dad pointed and said "you ran a stop sign.  But for chrissakes, when the cops come, keep your mouth shut about it or you'll get nailed to the wall. You don't know what happened, and neither did I. Trust me."  And he did, and he drove away with his license still intact.

10.  My mom, one fine day, took it upon herself to make a batch of home-made Kahlua. It was an odd choice; no member of our family drank, and we had bottles of it in our house for 20 years. I was regaling some co-workers about it and wanted to get some details from her.  I called the house but she wasn't home, so dad picked up the phone.  I asked him if Mom was home, he said no, what did I need?  I told him "I just wanted some details on 'the Great Kahlua Incident of 1977.'" He burst out laughing, a real belly-laugh, and we said goodbye with laughter still on our lips.  It was thus that in the last conversation we had, the last sound I ever heard from him was his raucous laughter. It wasn't exactly the good-bye I wanted, but I suppose I could have done a lot worse.

Jesus Christ, I still miss my dad so much.