I (Jake) wanted to throw on some memories of my dad embarrasing me that I fully intend to pass on to my children. Here are just a few. Sibs, you'll have to help me add some more.
1) Misguided fan- Just as I stepped into the batter's box at my little leauge game to take a few swings I hear my dad yelling from the stands his favorite nickname for me, "Rocky!!...Rocky Marciano!!". None of my friends knew who Rocky Marciano was, all of their dads knew he was NOT a baseball player.
2) Milly Vannilly- Somehow my dad became a big fan, nearly groupy status, of the band. My dad taught me about great music, but somehow his love affair for them did not even end when he discovered they were a fraud. You could hear "blame it on the rain" blasting from our stereo from about 7-8am every morning.
3) The Dancing Driver- In spite of his love for good music, Dad was not blessed with any sort of musical ability exc
ept whistling. Nowhere was this more apparent than driving down the
interstate on our way to Indiana. Because he didn't know most of the words, Dad usually encouraged the singers, saying "Go Willie" or "Here it comes now". To match that he danced in-spite of his lack of rythem. To go along with the constant head bob, there was the random point and snap (never with the beat), the shoulder shimmy, and my personal favorite, the air piano.
There are more, but we'll save them for a later post.
