Most of you have never met my father, and most likely never will. He is not famous. Having said that, too many people say too many lovely things about their loved ones after they are already gone. I have decided not to make that mistake. My father had open heart surgery at age 48 back in 1989. Now he is 66, and he has to go in for an angiogram.
They found a blockage. Before sharing with you some of his brilliant political insights, I want to mention that he is a Holocaust survivor. He was only 4 years old when the war ended. My grandfather saved 7 people, and my grandmother used to have to keep my dad underneath her shirt to muffle his cries. They lived in the woods, always on the run, like animals. They were hunted. My father is a loving man, but when I used to complain about how tough social studies was in junior high school, his standard response was “Yeah life is tough. Have you gotten shot at this week?” I never won that argument…nor any political argument with him…he taught me politics… here are some of his political commentaries.
During the election 2000 chaos, my parents lived 5 minutes from what was seen on tv. They had the butterfly ballot. My dad stated that he was “so happy that world peace was breaking out, and that people are finally letting bygones be bygones.” When asking what that meant, he explained that he “was overjoyed to live long enough to see his fellow elderly Jewish Holocaust survivors put aside their differences and vote for Pat Buchanan.”
He felt that anti-semitism would be the result of the election no matter who won. “America is in chaos, we don’t have a President, and what is everybody going to do…blame the Jews for screwing up the election. So much for us being the chosen people…or even educated people. We really blew those stereotypes with our genius ballot reading ability.”
His solution was simple. “Son, if your mother and I ever get to the point where we can’t read or figure out a ballot…or we are too feeble to push the thing all the way through…euthanize us, the house is yours.” When my mother protested, he quickly cut her off and said, “Eric, old people at some point have a duty to die and get out of the way, and that includes your mother and me…and you better pull those plugs. If I find out you kept me alive against my wishes I am going to come back to life and kick your @ss.”
This presented me with a dilemma. On the one hand, I want to keep my parents around. On the other hand, it is a very nice house. I used to walk around my parents’ house holding a clipboard and appraising things (no, not really), but my dad realized correctly that the best life insurance a parent can have is to not have any inheritance to leave children. As of this writing, when my parents pass on, I will not owe anything.
When worrying about the economy, my dad pointed out that he needed to come out of retirement and get a job to supplement their income. When I told him that he and my mom were doing fine, he replied, “Yeah, but you’re coming to visit next month for a week. We are worried about paying the grocery bills given how often you raid the fridge.”
During the worst of the Florida hurricanes, I asked if my parents were going to evacuate. My dad, macho John Wayne style, asked “Son, where are we going to go?” When I replied that Florida was being declared a disaster area, he replied “Son, between the Cubans protesting over Elian Gonzales and the liberal Jews from Long Island protesting over everything else, it’s already a disaster area.” He continued…”Son, we moved down to Florida to get away from them. If they want to screw up the People’s Republic of New York, that’s fine. Just don’t come down here and bring leftist politics.” He even wondered if a free trade pact with Cuba would allow America to import as many Cubans as possible (provided they continued to vote republican and didn’t talk about Elian Gonzales), in exchange for us deporting liberal Jews. He is a proud Jew, but is embarrassed by the 75% of them that have their heads up (insert pg-rated phrase here).
When my parents took a trip to China, they went to Miami first, then Detroit, and then the plane went to China. He was worried about lawlessness and crime upon being out of the safe confines of the bill of rights. I explained to him that China was the most capitalist communist country on Earth, and that his worries were overblown. He replied “Son, I’m not worried about China. I am worried about going to Miami and Detroit. They burn down houses and overturn cars after sports championships. We’ll be safe once we get to China.”
When shopping for a house, he wanted something near a Temple community, near a $2.99 breakfast place (he hates getting ripped off), and nowhere near a golf course. Since most of the property in South Florida resides on golf courses, he explained that he did not play golf, and that he preferred target shooting with his gun collection. When told about Florida’s liberalized gun laws, he inquired of the real estate agent “Can I hunt golfers?” When told this was not ok, even in a red NRA state, he replied “Ok, next house.”
He believed at times that popular culture only proved that there were many idiots in this world, because some things should not have been popular. He came home one day from his schoolteaching job (He taught in the inner cities) and expressed concern. “Son, the kids at school were listening to their music, if you want to call it that, and it made no sense to me. I am asking you about it because I figure anything involving bad music, you would know about.” After thanking him for the compliment, I asked him exactly what he did not understand. He replied that the kids, while listening to the music, were “barking, like dogs.” My dad had just been introduced to the world of Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre.
“Is this a black kid thing?”
“No dad, the upper middle class white kids love it.”
“Is this a young kid thing?”
“No dad, the older teenagers enjoy it too.”
“Son, when I was a kid, barking like a dog was an all around stupid people thing. You start sounding like animals, people come in the paddywagon and take you away to a place with white walls for your own good. It’s like howling at the moon.”
“Dad, it’s a G-thing.”
“A G-string?”
“No dad, a G-thing. It aint nuthin’ but a G-thing, baby… (he then cut me off)”
“Son, does this have anything to do with those kids who wear their pants on backwards?”
“No dad, that is Kriss-Kross, totally krossed out.”
“Son, do you wear your pants on backwards? I know you wear your hat on backwards.”
“Dad, that’s the style.”
“Son, wearing your head on backwards is not a style. It’s a sign of lesser intelligence. Do you wear your pants on backwards?”
“Well not normally, but there was this one time I woke up late for school and got confused… (he cut me off).”
“Son, please go to your room. You’re not grounded, but I don’t want to talk about this any more. I have read this book from cover to cover, and I did not understand one word…and don’t bark in the house…I don’t want your mother to think there is something wrong with you, even though we both know there is.”
The internet generation perplexes him. He does buy stuff on Ebay, but it’s my mother who sits at the computer doing all the typing. He is a great armchair quarterback with regards to the internet. After watching me on internet dating website Jdate, he replied “You know, I used to believe in creationism, but you my son have disproven that theory. Since liberals existing disproves intelligent design, the only answer is evolution. Not only is evolution factual, but this internet dating thing is evolution come full circle.” Since I was totally perplexed by this remark, I asked him what he meant. He stated, “We started out as baboons. Then we were able to walk upright. Now all you kids are hunched over your computers chatting online with your fellow hunchbacks. What simian women are you talking to? Do these women know you are growing hair on your back hunched over like that? Look at you, your knuckles are dragging on the keyboard. I used to think you needed a shave. Now I realize you are just reverting back to your original ape-like form.”
I gave up trying to explain football to him in 1980. When coming home every color of the rainbow (blood red, mud brown, grass green, etc), I was proud of scoring the winning touchdown. At age 8, this was a big deal. He sat me on the toilet to apply iodine. Below is what took place.
“Son, are you getting paid for this?”
“No.”
“Any endorsement deals?”
“Huh?”
“You know, sneakers, box of Wheaties?”
“No.”
“Son, the next time 11 people are coming at you ready to kill you…give them the d@mn ball. It isn’t worth the conflict. You kids, fighting over an oblate spheroid.”
His wisdom of course extended to the politics of religion. After coming home from Hebrew school, my dad got mad at me for something. I told him God loved me, and that if he yelled at me, God would strike him down with a lightning bolt. He very calmly replied that in his house, he was God. He also pointed out that while God could punish me after I died, every day until then was his. I never tested him again.
He has never liked any of the women I have ever dated. I once told him that I was dating someone, but there was one issue. After explaining again that she did not have hair on her back, he suspected that she was not Jewish. Being a Holocaust survivor, he made it clear that if I married non-Jewish, he had no son, and that he did not want to deal with me. I calmed him down and told him to go in the other direction. He replied “Oh, you mean she is very Jewish.” When I explained that the word was Orthodox (which he knew), he replied “Why do you want that life for? Can’t you find someone who is Jewish and not religious like everybody else?”
Yet despite his skepticism, he had a deep knowledge of religion. Once right before Passover, at age 14, he caught me throwing away a McDonalds bag on my way to the restroom. Below is what transpired.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to take a leak, Pop.”
“Go next door and use Susan’s bathroom. (they were catholic)”
“I don’t want to. I can use ours right here.”
“No, either use Susan’s, or go outside behind the trees.”
“What am I, an animal? Why?”
“Did your mother just make the whole house Kosher for Passover?”
“Yes.”
“Did you just eat McDonalds, a non-kosher meal?”
“Yes.”
“Well if you would have paid attention in Hebrew school, you can’t take a non-kosher leak in a kosher for passover bathroom.”
I went next door, until my mom, just rushing in with groceries, asked me where I was going. When I told her I needed to go next door to use the bathroom, she asked if we were having plumbing problems. When I explained that I did not wish to take a non-kosher leak in a kosher for Passover bathroom, she asked where I got such an idiotic notion. She then heard my dad doubled over in laughter. After calling out his name, he replied “that’ll teach the young know it all kid to think a few months in Hebrew school makes him God of Knowledge Almighty.”
My dad is not always easy to deal with, but he is a loving, caring, decent, fine man who worked hard his whole life. He did not smoke, do drugs, gamble away the rent money, or engage in any behavior that would make the Law and Order SVU team investigate his underwear drawer.
He has an opinion about everything, but then again if he were to God forbid not be around, those opinions would be missed. I hope when he goes in for the angiogram on Monday or Tuesday (so as not to mess up his fishing trip this weekend or his tv schedule on Thursdays), that everything turns out fine.
I am praying for him. I hope you all do the same.
I love you dad. I love you too mom.
eric