September 11th, 2009

Whistler's Vader

The power of parenthood

I don't normally have a huge amount of patience for gawkers in NY. I don't care that people do it - we all do it, time and then, even people who live their whole lives here, occasionally, look up or over or around and have a "holy shit" moment. However, NY gawkers have the good sense to have their moment in a place where they aren't gonna fuck up the rhythms. Not in the middle of a crosswalk, or the center of the sidewalk, or on the stairs or turn style leading into the subway.

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So I get into work stormy and full of hate, ready to chew sand and spit glass, and I start plowing through my email. My dad sent me this gem of a joke:

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It is a funny joke, and it made my day. It definitely didn't clear my head of all the blackness gathered like the thunderheads outside, but it sure as shit poked a hole in them. I think if anyone else had sent me that joke, it wouldn't have mattered. Because it was my dad, and because of conversations and disagreements we have and had on religion, and conversations I've had recently on the subject, it was all the funnier. I wonder if, on some cosmic level, he was on that wavelength when he hit forward. The parent wavelength - 'kid in trouble - throw a rope' - I don't know. That is the power of parenthood though. Pretty amazing shit.

Thanks dad.
Oy Tropicana

on the subject of jokes

I just remembered one I heard at Dan's wake that I wanted to pass on/preserve for posterity.

What is brown and rhymes with snoop?

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Dan was full of 'em. He was one chuckalarious motherfucker. I think that I will always remember that joke as his best, because he got me with it after he had already passed on.