When I was 5 years old, I did a 3 dimensional isometric drawing of a house. I showed it to my dad and he told me my perspective was off, I needed to determine my vanishing point and the shading was unrealistic because I was not consistent with my light source.

When I was around 7 years old, we (my siblings and I) had learned all the standard cuss words and so we asked my dad if there were any other foul words we could use to insult each other with. At a loss for any, he said: “vaginal lips.” Then watched in amusement as we called each other “vaginallipses” for half the day before we realized what we were saying.

Already an established graphic designer for several years, I went to work for my dad’s ad agency. He started me out as a gopher for almost a year because he didn’t want to be accused of nepotism. One day he saw me exchanging a few words with another employee. He took me aside and explained how he never socializes on the job and is constantly in a cold sweat when he works for fear of getting distracted and making a mistake. He informed me that if I was to continue working there, I should do the same.

Okay, so the lovely female AE I was chatting with was sitting on my lap at the time so he wasn’t completely wrong for reprimanding me.

In my dad’s defense, his father, who was a sadistic tyrant, told him: “Don’t ever speak to anyone because no one cares what you have to say and you’ll just be a nuisance.” This was at family gatherings that he would say things like this. So you can’t really blame the guy for being a little cold at times.

My mom, on the other hand, would gush endlessly about how talented I was and have it framed and mounted prominently if I puked on a piece of paper. (Slight exaggeration there.)

All in all, I love my dad dearly and he’s my greatest influence in life. My moms not too shabby either.

He also would tell me that I should eat my vegetables because it would grow hair on my chest.

Always if asked by strangers if I could spare some change to always give because it wasn’t my place to judge other people and their situation.

He also said lima beans were gross and he will never eat them so that was one vegetable we didn’t have to eat.

The best thing he ever said was that my mom was very closed minded. After years of my mother telling me how bad my father was I hadn’t bonded with him until I was 16 after he told me this. He passed away when I turned 18 unexpectedly though sad to say. He was a genius and had a lot of good insight but I didn’t even realize it till it was too late.

When in any public restroom while standing at the urinals, he would always turn to me and proclaim “If you shake it more than twice, you’re playing with it.” (hand to God that’s true). I learned to hold it.

I remember a time when we were both watching a football game and he turned to me suddenly and said, “Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you! I finally figured out how to make “it” twelve inches long!”(dad had a fascination with “it”) “How?” I naturally asked, as is the human inclination. “Fold it in half,” he replied. I got my own TV for my birthday and watched football alone shortly thereafter.

I believe the most serious advice my father ever gave me, and I took it to heart, was “Son. Do NOT serve baked beans at your wedding reception. Trust me on this.” Mom still will not talk about her first night of marriage.

And to think…I’m made up of exactly one half of that man. I know. I don’t believe it either.

***

Haa! The folded half! Please. The only part of that man that even looks folded is on the other side of his body and pokes out of his jeans every time he “fixes” something. The joke he told me on the couch that day only typifies the kind of man he is. I think in his mind’s eye he sees himself as hybrid of Confuscious and Robin Williams. The deep thinking wisearse who can come up with a crack like that at half time of a football game…..Just watch the game dad, I say. Just watch the game!

Then he told me to clean my room . . .!

True story . . .

and

“Choke up on your hammer, Priss.”

Unforgettable.