I'm Studying You

I tried hard to have a father but instead I had a dad

I was getting kinda nervous. Dad was supposed to call me during the week about the end table he was supposed to pick up last saturday (and I'm not repeating that debacle...it's last saturday's entry, scroll back if ya missed it). I always get a little nervous when someone says they're gonna call and don't, but I get a little more so with him...if and when tragedy strikes, I'm usually the last one to know.

Got up this morning and waited around for a little bit, because he mentioned possibly getting it today. But I really didn't want to wait around, he never called and I was getting kinda hungry, so I slashed legs on the way to the '50's Diner for breakfast.

And I haven't been there in quite awhile. They're a tad pricey and a lot of times this tiny little trailer is mobbed for breakfast. But the people who own it are genuinely nice people; they're locals too and you can see them out just about anywhere, grocery shopping or even at a bar (in fact I've partied with them and their daughter a couple times at the karaoke bar...it was funny when I'd go in there after another late night of too many barley sodas, forgetting they worked there and being greeted with "Hey! Looked like you had a good time last night!" and me being too hungover to remember I was gonna see them for breakfast). But I digress...they even remembered my usual order; decaf coffee, glass of water, 2 eggs over easy, 2 strips of bacon, wheat toast and mashed potatoes with gravy instead of the homefries (don't judge me! Mashed potatoes with breakfast is healthier than french fries, and I don't like homefries or hash browns much. No playa-hatin' on my potato selection!).

The good news is the old man finally called. The better news is that my aunt and uncle are coming to pick it up tomorrow between the ungodly early hours of 9 and 10AM. The best news? He stopped at the Indian Reservation to get me some cigarettes. Oh yeah, he's doin' well too.

I often wonder over the last few years if my dad's trying to make up for not being around when I was a kid. He buys me smokes, he's giving me his car, he hugs me and says he loves me, little stuff. Calls me buddy. Different from a guy who I think spent his entire 30's either drunk, angry, or both. Or semi-existant. I'm not complaining; I think it's great. No use in crying over spilt beer. I'm glad he's still around. So I know you're probably never going to see this, but I love you too dad.

"Given To You" 

I know we all have these different backgrounds and not everyone is lucky enough to share the same sentiments that I have today. Just promise me you'll tell someone you're close to, someone you might not always say it to, that you love them. They'll appreciate you for it.

Sorry to get all cheesy today. 32 years and I'm still trying to figure this place in my head out sometimes. I know the title is a Nirvana lyric, but the clips aren't. This goes out to anyone who's ever felt different or freakish. It's the best version I could find, but it blows away the acoustic version I'm familiar with. And no, it's not Atmosphere today. Oh yeah, and to dads and sons too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ujCcmUMr30&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6L3hdhCkJqE

Because turntabling is a lost art in the era of radio ringtone rap. Support your local DJ's. Honk if you love peace and quiet.