While I often have some negative memories associated with my dad and growing up, today in honor of Fathers’ Day, I will dwell on the fun stuff.
I learned to dance by standing on my dad’s feet and having him twirl me around the room. I also learned to enjoy a variety of music from him. He used to play everything from ballads, classical, country, marches, Mexican ranchera music, and more. I learned to like them all.
My father had only a second grade education. Then he had to go to work to help support his mother and himself. He and his mother were shunned, even by family, because he had been born as the result of an affair my grandmother had with a married man. No one helped them and so it was upon him to help his mother earn a living from the age of seven on.
Even so, he had a strong thirst for knowledge. He taught himself English and then he taught himself to read it and write it. One thing I have in common with him is a strong interest in words. We both love word games and word play. We also both enjoy learning about the history of different areas. When I was in second grade, I was fascinated with learning where places were on a map and on a globe my dad bought at a second hand store. Then I moved on to learn state capitals and the capitals of countries round the globe. My dad helped me learn the capitals. When I was in third grade, my dad picked up an old encyclopedia at a thrift shop and from that, he and I learned about the places we had seen on maps and on the globe.
I remember a little routine my dad and my uncle used to do when I was little. They had a way of carrying on a conversation that made absolutely no sense, yet it sounded like it did. One would start with an off the wall comment and the other would follow with a second off the wall comment that had nothing to do with the original. They would go on and on, adding a variety of tones and inflection in their voices. I’ve tried to do this and can do it for about a minute or so. My dad and my uncle used to be able to carry on for fifteen to twenty minutes before one or the other would finally crack up and end the whole thing. Here’s a sample:
Dad: Bread is fifty-nine cents a loaf now.
Uncle: Gary painted the house blue.
Dad: I’m changing the oil tomorrow.
Uncle: She crossed the street just as the light turned red.
Dad: And did they finally go to sleep?
Uncle: I worked twelve hours today.
Dad: The son is in the hospital.
Uncle: Oh! That was such a good movie!
Dad: San Francisco doesn’t have any alligators.
Uncle: Then she brought me a cup of coffee with no milk.
Dad: Frank quit smoking last month.
Uncle: Marilyn is a real looker.
this was such a nice post.. i love knowing more about people.. who they are and where they come from..
i had to change my url that is probably why you lost contact.. just take the “-” out of all the addresses you currently have in your blogroll and they will be correct.. it is whypaisley now. not why-paisley.. long story…
LikeLike
Awesome memoir, Corina. I love the conversation! I should try this with my son. He’s got a very vivid imagination and punchy sense of humor, so it ought to be a blast.
I love the way you describe your dad’s love of music. My dad was stuck on Hee Haw and The Grand Ole Opry. Hence, I despise country music.
Cool post.
LikeLike
That sounds like a fun game. I doubt I’d be smart enough to carry that off, though.
LikeLike
I hope your dad would get a kick out of this: that game made me laugh out loud.
This was sweet. Good sweet, not maudlin — it made me think fondly of you and your dad. You reminded me of myself, with mine.
LikeLike