My Old Man
I just got back from Florida after visiting my old man for a few days. Some day I'll tell you more about him...that might take a while! He and I got to laughing one day as we do, and decided that a much more popular podcast would be he and I just talking and joking around. We'd have a million listeners in a month. He saved a 35 year old Johnny Walker Blue Label for a decade, telling me that when I come down we'd open it together. While he visited me a few times, I hadn't managed to come down to his new home and life in Florida. I'm glad I finally did. You never know what time will do. After a few sips on the ceremonious libation we probably could have made a pretty funny episode.
My old man is a tough son of a gun, with a good sense of humor. He was an independent horseshoer for 43 years in the northeast. Never missed a day of work in his life, even after knee surgery. Imagine that for a second: a guy shoeing horses with a leg cast on. Well, he finally got a rest in life and is relaxing in the Florida sun for the last leg of life.
He's a man from a bygone era who believes that men should look one another in the eye and give a firm handshake upon meeting. He's also lived hard, and believes in Marlboro. I never know when it's going to be the last time I see my dad. We didn't always have the easiest time, and I often tell him that any psychologist received his profession from his parents. He usually laughs and endearingly says..."you know, Lucas, you can be a real asshole sometimes to your poor old father." I chuckle and tell him not to get me started on where I got that tendency.
As I traveled back to San Diego, I was engrossed by this song. It somehow narrates something about my experiences. Not sure how entirely, yet.
