my father

[Drunk Monk]

I'll be very interested to hear how you handle cleaning out that house as I will face a similar scenario, hopefully in the distant future. Heck, my own stuff hoarded at my folk's home is a ton of crap I keep meaning to get rid of... :oops:

[King Bob]

DM - she is at the Atrium (I think now called Brookdale) in San Jose, near Blossom Hill and Santa Teresa.

I am not sure the hoarding is just the Depression era thing - I think with her it was partly laziness and having a lot of storage space to put crap in meant she didn't have to throw it away. My brother and his wife are hoarder-ish too, and he still has stuff in her house, mainly papers from high school and old books. I told him to get what he wanted, and he oh so helpfully just took his old trophies from high school! Jackass. He has not done much of anything through all this.

[Drunk Monk]

I was at my mom's last night. After she went to bed, I took a big shot of my Dad's JD, a big industrial-size bottle that's in the front of his weird liquor cabinet. Alas, there's nothing like that Tennessee JD burn.

My mom and I chatted a little about the anniversary this morning. She said she was delighted to learn that she could live alone, something she didn't think she could do, and for her, my Dad passed when the initial stroke happened, so she's adjusted long ago.

I may pick up a bottle of JD on the way home tonight. That was my dad's fav. I enjoy it too because it was something we drank together on occasion. It'll be nicer than that 10 year Macallan PPFy regifted to me (a 10 year? I get the regift. And I still appreciate it - thanks!)

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

:butthead: :finga: mt018 mt065 mt117

[Drunk Monk]

I got it at the local CVS to honor the anniversary of my Dad's passing. I was carded - 30 years after I came of age, I was carded. That stuck out in my mind and I attribute it to wearing a hat that covers my receding hairline. I've been wearing hats more ever since.

Anyway, that JD has sat in my whisky cache ever since. I've started drinking it again for Redbell. It's my mourning JD now.

[Drunk Monk]

Tomorrow is the 2nd anniversary of my dad's passing.  I still have a little of that JD from last year, and will have a shot or two in his honor.  Then I'll go to a show so as not to dwell on it.


I reviewed this thread last week.  It's a good personal reflection, very precious to me.  Thanks for listening, DOOM brothers.

[Greg]

I'm pretty sure we have nothing better to do.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

What G-Man said.

[Drunk Monk]

This is a post I've been thinking about for three years.  When my dad passed, he left a box of q-tips, one of those 500 count boxes.  My mom doesn't use them so she put them in the bathroom that I use in her home, the one I grew up with.  You know how q-tips always say not to stick them in your ear?  Yeah, well, I do that.  Why don't you arrest me?  It's a weird thing actually.  I have a very clear memory of my dad teaching me how to clean my ears with a q-tip when I was very young and saying 'Dad, the box says not to stick these in your ears.'  And my dad just ignored that.  Years later, I'm minoring in Anthropology at SJSU and the prof is using earwax to demonstrate the Punnett square, a basic genetics chart, and he's pointing out that Asians and Europeans have different earwax.  A few years later, in my random Asian studies, I learn all about the tradition of ear cleaning in Asia - it's a common barber skill, often done by local 'experts' who shill it on street corners.  There's a wonderful u-kiyo image of Bodhidharma getting his ears cleaned by a prostitute.  If you go to Daiso, you'll find ear spoons designed for just such a task, right next to the Japanese q-tips which don't usually have the 'don't stick in ears' warning.  So my dad was right.  It was one of those odd heritage lessons he passed down, surely without even realizing it was culturally distinct from American practices.

So on my weekly visits to my mom, I've been using that box of q-tips my dad left unfinished to clean my ears after showering.  It ran out this week.   Like so many things that were my dad, it vanishes.  Soon I wonder what might remain.  His bloodline?  His patents?  What remains of any of us?

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

Memories and then, eventually, nothing. There are a lot of perpetual trophies in fencing. I see a lot of names of people that no one remembers.

[Drunk Monk]

Wait...who are you again? I didn't think we allowed nekkid kneed people in DOOM. Won't that chafe your knickers?

[Drunk Monk]

Today is my dad's birthday.  I'm going over to my mom's tonight.  I haven't seen her in a few weeks, since before Yosemite.

My dad loved Godzilla and Glen Campbell, so I've been thinking about him more than usual.  He really like Rhinestone Cowboy, and once he got some sort of coupon for a free 45 at Tower Records Mtn Vw.  He was going to get Rhinestone Cowboy, but then spaced it out at the last minute and got something else.  I can't remember what but I remember chiding him endlessly for his oversight.  I can't hear Glen, or Nat King Cole (of whom he was also a huge fan), without thinking of him.

[Drunk Monk]

4 years tomorrow 

I’ll be at my mom’s tomorrow night for my weekly visit. I’ll probably take a swig off my dad’s jug of jd in remembrance.

[Drunk Monk]

I'll be in Paris for my Dad's birthday.  Did I ever mention that it's the same day as the day when Garcia died?  Anyway, I'm not sure if my Dad ever made it to Paris.  He traveled extensively for work.  I remember him going to Switzerland and Belgium a lot.  I asked my Mom about it early this week.  She's never been to Europe at all and couldn't remember if my Dad went to Paris or any of the other places we're planning on visiting.  She had no aspirations to see Europe.  She only wanted to see Asia, which they did.  My folks lived in Japan and in the Philippines for a few years when my Dad was working on military radar systems.  

Usually I burn incense as an observation.  Not sure if that'll be possible in Paris.  Maybe I'll give an offering at some Cathedral or something.  My Dad was Protestant but only marginally so, only as an ice-breaker so he could socialize.

[Dr. Ivor Yeti]

This reminded me that I don’t know my father’s birthday. He wasn’t around much after my sophmore year in high school. I remember generally when he died, it was on or very near Veteran’s Day. My fencing master, John, now *his* birthday I remember. Sometimes your fathers aren’t the ones the DNA tests say they are.