Lunch with Dad

WARNING: You may find these conversations offensive. It has swearing and adult content. In keeping with the spirit for whom these conversations are based: Tough shit.

Lunch with Dad

In writing this blog, I was trying to remember my first memory of my father. He took an unfiltered Camel from his lips, and spit a piece of tobacco off his tongue, before kissing me goodbye. It always seemed he was kissing me goodbye. 
I remember his huge head moving toward my face, as I got my turn. His routine was the same. Remove the cigarette, spit, kiss. He did this to my mother also, but her kisses were better.  
Dad worked two jobs. The first, as an explosive and heavy equipment operator for a limestone quarry and the second at a cereal factory. My mother stayed home, which was common in the 60’s.

I would like to say my parents were high school sweethearts it's not entirely true.  My mother was barely out of ninth grade and dad two weeks away from graduation when Mom popped up pregnant with my sister Debbie. It was a surprise to them both, as my father was told he would never have children after getting his testicles barbecued after peeing on an electric fence. 

My dad explains it like this: “That fence wasn’t a normal fence. It was a weed burning one. I peed on that fence and lit up like a burnt match. My kahuna’s were a big as baseballs. Our neighbor was a doctor and dad took me over there. He packed my balls on ice and told my dad he would never get grandkids from me. I heard that and thought “Hell yes!” After that, I started hittin’ anything that moved. So when your ma told me she was pregnant, I went “What the hell?” 

It wasn’t the accidental vasectomy he had hoped for. 

Dad quit high school 2 weeks from graduation and Mom dropped out in the 9th grade and started their life together. Dad was a black leather, Camel smoking Teamster version of Ward Cleaver, and Mom, June on crack. When they needed extra money, Mom would drag race men, usually winning, and for fun they hit the bar on Saturday night. Every Saturday night. It was in the mix of smoke and underage whiskey my mother would usually start a fight with some guy, which Dad had to finish. He didn’t mind. He loved to fight and she loved to be rescued. A twisted version of the damsel in distress rescued by a prince. It was Dad's pleasure to take out the town banker, the town asshole, the car lot owner, the town drunk, and Del Shannon, the one hit wonder of the 60’s. Before Del became famous, he too, hung out at the bar. Mom's mistake was going to the bar while Dad was at work. Being a suspicious man with a jealousy problem, Dad shows up to the bar to take her home. 

“It ain’t proper for a mother to be at a bar while her husband is at work,” he explained. 

As he takes her arm to leave and Del, attempting to intervene on her behalf, confronts my father.

As my father tells it: “I turned around and blasted him one right in the face, and he went down like a little girl. Back then, he was a fat little pecker head. He slimmed down after he got famous. I think it was all that cocaine.”

Leaving home for my dad was I suspect, a blessing. He was the unexpected 5th child of an aging woman who clearly did not want another, and a mostly silent father. His older sister, Margaret, was his mother figure and her husband Gene, a lifetime Navy man Dad's nemesis. 
Dad said, “He didn’t like me or my attitude. He once told me, “When you address me, you call me Sir.” So I said, Okay…..FUCK YOU….Sir.”

My father’s presence in the house was one of authority. We sat up correctly and chewed with our mouths closed. Under his intense eye, I was self-conscious that I might be doing something wrong. To me he was like to sun. He was warm and inviting, but I knew if I stared at him too long I could go blind. His ultimate authority scared me, but it was also a source of comfort.

Thunderstorms scared me as a child. I could usually predict when they would come. I would see dark blue forming on the horizon and immediately get diarrhea. I was never sure about why I did this. I thought it to be some type of mystical weather barometer in my colon. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend the entire storm on the toilet. My family would be heading to the basement, while I was still reaching for toilet paper. The only time I felt safe was when Dad was home. 

I seldom saw Dad in my preteen years. He worked second shift seven days a week. For me, it worked out well. The lack of parental authority combined with my genetic hardwiring created a female version of my father. 

Mom repeatedly lectured, "Stephanie, if you don't watch what you are doing, you are going to get a reputation!"
I had no idea what a reputation was, but I knew I wanted one. 

For my parents, lack of family time became the straw that ended the marriage. In a final act of desperation he did not expect to win, my father fought for custody of my brother and I, and got it. 

I would later tease him, “When you accidently got custody of Eddie and I, you looked at us and said, “What were your names again?” 

I am grateful to be Swany's daughter and remember his fatherly advice over the years. He covered all the bases.

Sex:"Keep your pants up till your 16 and I will buy you a car."

Dating: "Never date a man over 30 who wears gold jewelry. He's a player."

Bullies: "Don’t put up with bullshit! Pick up a fucking stick and beat the shit out of him."

Self destruction: "Hell Steph, there is a line of assholes out there waiting to kick the shit out of you for nothing more than the change in your pocket. So, why the hell are you kicking your own ass?"
That advice changed my life. 

My father was in his seventieth decade when he started inviting me to lunch. It began as an occasional thing, then worked its way into several times a week. Getting on in years, he still lived with my brother and his wife, but it was easier for him to get a meal in town than create one. He also enjoyed flirtations with the waitresses. It was during one of our lunches I started really paying attention to what he said. Some things were funny, some were profoundly smart and I started writing them down. I had a Facebook account at the time and that is when I realized that sharing them would perhaps not solve world problems, but maybe make someone giggle a bit. After I had so many of them, I realized I could categorize them.

Politics

"Quote from Dad after watching Fox News: “$!?$ this and €%* that $±% and furthermore ?:+*#!!!! :)"

“I was kinda hoping the Democratic party would call and poll me. I been wanting to yell at someone.”

“That old whore Hillary Clinton will be chompin at the bit to run in 2016.”

 Dad: "The problem with this country today is we got as many people in the wagon that is pulling it, but it's been like that before."

Me: “Really? When?”

 Dad: "Back in the 50's when food stamps and welfare was started. But we could afford it then. Now, we can't afford it, and the wagon pullers are being sucked dry.”

“Buncha fuckin assholes in Washington.”

“I can’t watch Fox News anymore. It ruins my day and gets my blood pressure up. I am a shortimer anyway, so I don’t give a fuck what they do.”

Friends

Dad; "Hey there is old _____." I worked with him a long time ago"

Me: “Do you want to go say hi to him? I can wait here.”

Dad: "Nah. He was an asshole."

Dad: “He looks kind of old to me, dad.”

Dad: "Thats cuz he was an asshole. ALL assholes look like that… OLD!"

“He is a no good, dirty son of a bitch. The only problem is...I like him!"

Quote from Dad at the prospect of seeing an old enemy: "Yeah, he SAID he had a black belt in karate...But I gotta white belt in WHOOP ASS!”

Quote from Dad: “Hey! There is old Pork Chop! I worked with him at Kellogg’s! He sucked more ass than a Chinese whore.”

Conversation with Dad: "Yeah, I ran into a guy I went to high school with. He said, "You remember me? I was always tryin' to steal your girlfriend!" 
He did a lot of time in prison, and said he straightened out his life….but I still ain't tellin' him where I live."

Quote from Dad, after talking about a young guy he hated who died: "Talk about unfair! He fucked up everybody's life while he was here….and THEN he got to leave early!"

Women

Quote from Dad about a woman he refused to date: "She never shaved her underarms and she was a redhead. She'd lift up her arms 'n I thought there were two muskrats under there!"

Dad: "I saw three fat girls I went to school with yesterday."

Me: “ Really? Did you recognize them?”

Dad: "Yep. The problem is, the biggest one kept trying to give me her phone number."

Me: “So, did you take it?”

Dad: "HELL NO! I got this thing about fuckin a buffalo! Aint never done it and I aint gonna start!"

Quote from Dad about getting stopped by a female officer while in his red pick up truck: “A woman cop stopped me once. She just wanted to see who was driving THAT red truck. I could tell she had seen a few mattresses in her day, but I didn't say anything.”

Quote from Dad about a woman that made him angry: “If they didn’t put men in jail for hitting women I would slap that bitch right upside the head.”

Getting older maladies

Conversation with Dad about losing his muscle mass:

Dad: “Man, my arms and legs ain’t nothin’ like they used to be.”

Me: “Well, you lose muscle mass as you get older. Maybe you should try lifting weights.”

Dad: "You know, lifting weights at the age of 72 is like reading a magazine in a whore house. Neither one of them is gonna do you any good!"

Me: "Oh my God, Dad! That is hilarious! Can I FaceBook that? PLEASE!"

Dad: "I don’t give a shit. I don't mess with either of them."

Quote from Dad about getting in trouble: “You cant give an old man too much money because if you do, they will hurt themselves. When I go to bed and I take out my teeth, my glasses and my hearing aids. There aint nothin’ to do but go to sleep. I can’t get in no trouble.”

Quote from Dad after his doctor appointment: "My doctor wants to send me to another doctor. I said Hell NO! All he is gonna wanna do is stick his finger in my ass. I know what he is thinking and he aint gonna be doing THAT! My plumbing works and if it aint broke I don’t wanna fix it!"

Quote from dad: “I wake up in the morning and I hurt, from the bottom of my feet to my hair and then again when I go to bed. Everything in between is the same old bullshit!"

Quote from Dad after lamenting on his aging stomach: “Shit, I can't even drink milk no more. Like some girls I know, I get it in my mouth but can't swallow it without gagging!"

Quote from Dad: "I got more wrinkles in my ass than a 3 week old lunch bag.”

Quote from Dad: “I aint gonna be taking a buncha damn pills just to end up dying anyway. And they ain’t gonna be cutting on me. Sheeeet them doctors...all they wanna do it cut ya up.”

Quote from Dad: “At night, I take off all my fake shit. My glasses, my teeth and my hearing aids."

Conversation with Dad at lunch on his medical maladies: "THAT was the worst experience of my LIFE! If I had an orifice they were sticking shit in it to "look around." Every time I got into that MRI machine, my balls would start itching, and then I would start sweating. The minute I would get out, they would stop itching. Nope I ain’t doing THAT shit EVER again!"

Quote from Dad: "I only feel 70 in the morning. I get up and I hurt from my feet to what used to be my hair."

Me: “How was your doctor appointment?”

Dad: “ Well, for me, it was pretty good. For the doctor, it probably wasn’t. They came at me with rubber gloves so I had to say, “Waaaaait a minute there. I don’t know what your planning to do with those, but you ain’t gonna use them on me!””

Quote from Dad: “My doctor said, “We need to check your prostate Mr. Swanson.”

So I said, “My prostate is just fine. I emptied it three times last week.”

Quote from Dad: “That doctor wants me to shit in a bag. I have half a mind to get a dog turd out of the yard and let them analyze that!”