My Dad (Friday, August 18, 2006)

This is something I feel only a few people would appreciate. Maybe you have to know my dad. Maybe you have to understand people from his generation, (whom I love.) Maybe you just have to be sharp. But here goes.
I was walking along downtown Fullerton last week with my dad, we were headed south on Harbor just passing the Sprint store betwixt Starbucks and Wahoo's Fish Tacos and my dad says to me, pretty much out of the blue, "You know, I really like how today, people have the freedom to wear whatever they want, just to be themselves. I really like that." I won't ever forget that moment because it meant a lot of things.
My father has a lot in common with his fellow octogenarians/WWII vets. He likes to wear shorts with tall white socks (although he's expressed interest in sporting the short athletic kind), he enjoys the casual golf polo or vacation looking light-weight button down. He has definite opinions that have cemented over the nearly 88 years he's had to weigh their validity. It's difficult to assuage him otherwise, most the time.
He LOVES "Columbo" with Peter Falk, his signature is very 1940's, he believes in the gold standard and cannot live without coffee and pie. And the most ringingly true characteristic my father shares with his generation is the unwavering superiority of big band jazz, Classical/Post Classical movies and that "things were much safer" in his day. And of course a steak should cost 75¢. And that, "things were better in my day" mentality, fairly consistently, pervades many conversations about the corners of life.
I have heard my dad many times make the case that one reason "things were better" was because if you dress nicely, i.e. suit/tie/hat for men, dress/hat for women, you respect yourself, you, in a way, live up to the clothes you're wearing; you fulfill that image. And I'll tell you, it makes a lot of sense. I have heard more times then I can begin to tell you about what big band music would sound like today if "Rock" hadn't interrupted everything. And it's important to note that my dad has a personal grudge against Rock. Rock put my dad out of business.
I've heard fascinating stories about how jazz musicians would be on the corner, or in a coffee shop or at the union and they would be saying stuff like, "I don't know what's going on here, rock is taking over. It's only 3 chords. It's nothing. There's absolutely nothing to it and yet it's taking over the music scene." And these guys were scared to be out of a job. So my dad has a bit of a hard time extending an open ear to new music I introduce him to if it doesn't swing.
But he still can.
All that said, my father is the most open-minded 88 year-old I know who actually holds convictions. Someone once said. "An open mind is good, so is an open window; but you put a screen on it to keep the bugs out." I have a hard time respecting someone who hasn't come to some conclusions about the important truths, particularly after a certain age. But can you imagine what a love of life you must have to, after such a long lifetime, still keep a malleable opinion? It’s difficult to continually take on new ideas because it forces you to reconsider your entire cannon of knowledge. You must weigh and recontextualize what you know and believe when presented with new ideas. My dad can do this.
I'm not saying it's easy to introduce new perspectives to him, I mean, I'm probably the only one who can present a contrary idea in such a way that he'll grant it the gracious, "it's a possibility" or the famous, "it's not impossible, but it's not probable."
Although, all by himself, he recently decided that the latest Chinese joint he and my mom have begun to frequent has "the best" won ton soup he's ever had. Do you have any idea how much fucking won ton soup my dad has had over the course of his life. Are you aware of what nostalgia does to memories about anything over 20 years ago, particularly food? Food ALWAYS tastes better in memories because you build it up over he years until it reaches a level that can never be paralleled. And this is even more true when you no longer have access to this food.
Perhaps it's the perfect cannoli "back east" that Cazzale made 60 years ago or the shoestring fries and lump crab bisque at Hamburger Hamlet that’s “never been the same”, or the apple pie at that one place that closed down or the damn chicken chow mien that NO ONE on the west coast can make.
It reminds me of a MAD Magazine cartoon where this G.I. goes over seas and has this mental image of what his "beautiful" fiancé looks like. And in each progressive frame he gets increasingly war torn and ragged and in his mind she gets increasingly buxom until the day arrives when they meet again and they are both terribly NOT what they expected. Nostalgia man, it makes old folks a bitch to talk to sometimes cause NOTHING is as good as it WAS. And I think this often makes them lose interest in life and ultimately die, nothing can compare to their memories. But this is not true of my dad, for the most part. When something new is really great, my dad will be as excited, if not more so, than anyone else and he will tell everyone about it. He’ll throw in some stories too, but he’ll tell you about it.
My dad is truly the coolest guy I've ever met. And he's easily the coolest guy you've ever/never met. This is true. He is so hep. He's got to be the oldest man to ever walk into a Vans store, pick out a pair and look good in them. My dad will talk to ANYONE regardless of piercings, tattoos, hair colour, affluence, homelessness, sexuality and definitely race plays no part whatsoever in his decision process.
Being a jazz head, and coming from an entertainment family, my dad really received a rare and beautiful perspective growing up. I've seen my dad argue down racists half his age. Guys who you think would be more modern or have less bigoted notions than a man born in 1918, nope. I've listened with pride as my dad recounts the times my GRANDFATHER, a man born in 1895, invited Blacks, Native Americans, Hawaiians and Filipinos over for some real Sicilian eatin'. Can you imagine what the little old Sicilian women from the block must have said. My grandfather George didn't care. For better of for worse show people only care if you have talent. That’s what they like about people. That, and whatever interesting thing you have about you. It’s a wonderful perspective. I try and follow it. I take pride in my family's progressive humanitarian history.
You know what else is great about my dad? He is always full of surprises. I mean, he can be predictable and then out of nowhere he'll pull this totally unexpected thing. Like the comment about clothes, what in the World?!?!? I didn't think he'd ever say that. Or how he doesn't drink very much at all but on some random night he'll have a bunch of vodka tonics and barely feel it. Or how about when he'll WRITE A SONG AT 87 WITH GUY WHO'S BEST FRIENDS WITH MIKE NESS FROM SOCIAL D AND THE GUYS FROM OFFSPRING! Yea, how about that one? My dad is currently collaborating on a song with his friend Tom who is in his late thirties/early forties.
Tom is a lyricist and has worked/works with EVERYONE in the so cal punk rock scene. And yet, they're writing a song. So, when my dad says that he thinks it's great that people can wear whatever they like, what he's subconsciously saying is that he likes the present, and still engages with it, and this is special to me because this is MY time, my age and we can connect on that even though we're 62 years apart.
It also says that he's optimistic, open, idealistic and free of fear. What a way for a man to be. My father keeps getting better, not bitter with age (which I believe to be the only two options) and he has remained malleable because he reads the Word of God EVERYDAY and thinks upon it and discusses it openly with many people whether or not they believe in it's sanctity or veracity. He creates dialogue about the important things in life. That wisdom will keep you.
His mind is getting better and he chews on deeper and more complex thoughts than I've heard him mention before. And this is significant because, while my father is a man of deep, strong and earnest character and thought, he only studied as far as the eighth grade, so all of his education comes from what he reads, which he does much of. But I couldn't think of anything better for a man to read, particularly in the autumn of his life, than God's very own nourishing Truth.