This is my father. If he were an animal, he would be a large, friendly bear.
My father is like me to the millionth power. This means that he is not subtle, nor does he have much guile; he is incredibly loyal to friends and family; he both reads and eats at the speed of light (see below for the former); no matter what he wears, he always manages to look like "an unmade bed" (his words); he can do three things at once, and one of them is usually being online; he procrastinates; he agrees to do something in order to get you off his back, and then does whatever he wants (his major tactic with Mom, anyway); his house is a testament to clutter and disorganization; he is a sushi addict; he has a somewhat off-center sense of humor, and likes to say things just to see what will happen; he does not pay much attention to his surroundings; he is a night owl; he likes yard sales and has bought me three watches (third time he got it right, except I don't wear watches); he is bright and charming and likes to entertain crowds; he will give you innumerable chances, because he believes people are basically good; he has the attention span of a gnat. (What was I saying again?) I adore him.
A few interesting Dad facts: he used to be a calypso singer and worked the Borscht Belt; he made my first stereo out of found parts, and it worked great; one of his aunts commissioned and owned two Frank Lloyd Wright houses; he learned to sew (and build bombs!) at 17, in the Army; he was a Boy Scout; he always makes sure to tell me that he loves me, because his father was so uncommunicative; on weekends, when I was a teenager, we would cross paths at 3:30 AM -- he'd be going off to play golf at the public course, and I'd be going to sleep.
For years, he woke me up pretty much every morning -- since I started nursery school (with a four-year lapse while I was in college), even after I moved out of the house. Sometimes he still does.
A while ago, I got e-mail from him that said: "I think your working on children's books is a Freudian desire to have children which is subjugated through a deep emotional labyrinth to a place in time and space which protects you from such desires!!!! LOLOLOL -- so there!!!!!" (I think he really wants me to have kids. Or maybe he just wants to annoy me. I'm not sure which.)
When told about the state of my office, which is (like his) a chaos magnet, he IMed me to say: "i can read slush and probably faster than you!" so maybe I will hire him on as my reader.
My father recently told me that he actually shows this page to women he meets on JDate. If you are among them, please appreciate him. You might also want to read a little about my late mother so you know what you're up against.
Edited to add: Eep! He just joined Facebook! Now I'm going to have to curse more there. He would expect no less.
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