First of all, I'd like to dedicate this entire blog to my Dad. I say this not only because he was a very important and influential part of my life, but because I believe it was him that dropped the pebble that created the tsunami of humurously crazed ideas in my mind (or lack thereof).
I remember when it all came together:
My friend Nikki and I had been driving around a small town for hours trying to find someone's house. On what we realized was the THIRD trip around a tidy little cul-de-sac, we came upon an older, not-too-fit gentleman bent over the front of his car, tinkering with what we guessed was the rebelling mechanics of his car. Now, this wouldn't seem to stand out so much in our minds from that description alone, but the poor man suffered from plumber's disease - in such severity that his pants (and underwear, if he was even wearing any - I myself couldn't see any, but then again, I wasn't really trying to look) barely rested at the top of the back of his thighs. Given this disturbing image, we quickly decided to throw in the towel on our search, and head back to my house.
My Dad must have heard the embarrassed teenage-girl giggles as we pulled in the driveway, or seen the ashen, traumatized looks on our faces, because he immediately got that knowing smirk on his face and asked what had happened.
We related our story, interrupted several times by silly little giggles and laced with horrible cliche'd jokes about "crack kills" and other tasteless things.
And so, after hearing the story and once again donning that half-cocked knowing grin, my Dad sat back in his large chair, and offered yet another in his endless line of deep insights.
"You know...God did that to you on purpose."
"Wha...???" Nikki and I both sat, a little confused, but waiting for the punchline, at any rate.
"He was reminding you of your mortality." And with that, he lifted himself from his seat, and exited to the kitchen to refill his coffee.
Nikki and I exchanged a quick, silent look, trying to decide whether to laugh, but mulling over the possibility.
And so, there it was - the beginning of a long line of conspiracy theories.
I'll quote my Dad on this - "It's all insanity anyway."
I remember when it all came together:
My friend Nikki and I had been driving around a small town for hours trying to find someone's house. On what we realized was the THIRD trip around a tidy little cul-de-sac, we came upon an older, not-too-fit gentleman bent over the front of his car, tinkering with what we guessed was the rebelling mechanics of his car. Now, this wouldn't seem to stand out so much in our minds from that description alone, but the poor man suffered from plumber's disease - in such severity that his pants (and underwear, if he was even wearing any - I myself couldn't see any, but then again, I wasn't really trying to look) barely rested at the top of the back of his thighs. Given this disturbing image, we quickly decided to throw in the towel on our search, and head back to my house.
My Dad must have heard the embarrassed teenage-girl giggles as we pulled in the driveway, or seen the ashen, traumatized looks on our faces, because he immediately got that knowing smirk on his face and asked what had happened.
We related our story, interrupted several times by silly little giggles and laced with horrible cliche'd jokes about "crack kills" and other tasteless things.
And so, after hearing the story and once again donning that half-cocked knowing grin, my Dad sat back in his large chair, and offered yet another in his endless line of deep insights.
"You know...God did that to you on purpose."
"Wha...???" Nikki and I both sat, a little confused, but waiting for the punchline, at any rate.
"He was reminding you of your mortality." And with that, he lifted himself from his seat, and exited to the kitchen to refill his coffee.
Nikki and I exchanged a quick, silent look, trying to decide whether to laugh, but mulling over the possibility.
And so, there it was - the beginning of a long line of conspiracy theories.
I'll quote my Dad on this - "It's all insanity anyway."
No comments:
Post a Comment