I love you.
This short little video from the wide world of the internet reminded me that. I love all of you. We are fellows. Such is the contradiction of our social technology.
Happening upon this video within the boundaries of the kingdom which our computer bent brains so honor, Facebook, I first thought it would be a light moment of distraction. (From what, I’m not sure if I’ll ever really figure out. We as a species seem pleased to plug in and live in a constant distraction of computer, facebook, twitter, news, netflix, hulu, check-ins, badges, ironic rss feed, imaginary vacation planning, screendow shopping and, of course, HUGE amounts of pornography which, just so you know, I think is awesome. You can rest assured, should I ever answer that query you would be hard pressed to find me so that I could even let you know that it’s been figured out. Hopefully that would mean a point of enlightenment had been reach where I had committed to the simple lifestyle of my brethren before me.) Instead I found this wonderful message which, in turn, reminded me of my father.
I remember one time when I was about 10 or 11, I’m not really sure. I could have even been much younger then that. Whatever. It doesn’t really mater to the rest of the story.
I remember one time when I was around 10 my dad and I were hanging out. This was something that regularly happened in my family. It was my dad and us three kids so every Friday one of us would get a “Night Out With Daddy.” As the oldest, I got my night first, to my delight and my sibling’s horror. You’d pile in the car with Daddy while the other two stared from the porch of our Grandparents who lived in the house next door which, just so you know, IS AWESOME! Imagine Grandparents spoiling but EVERYDAY! Still, let’s not joke. My Grandpa don’t take no crap but as long as you had your grades straight and weren’t giving the ‘rents a hard time, it was smooth sailing through microwave popcorn with Grandpa in front of the big screen. The only time it wasn’t the BEST TIME EVER was when you were watching one of the “Others” (My brother and sister) leave on a “Night Out With Daddy.”
“Night Out With Daddy,” here forth referred to as NOWD simply because I’m sick of typing it out, normally involved a really high class place like Rock Ola Cafe or Olive Garden. OH! When the Olive Garden came to Hampton the NWOD’s became even more awesomer! We might not have even been hanging out on a NOWD. My dad just has always made time for us together as well as alone. I hope it’s something I can do with my children.
So, we’re somewhere together and I remember it being when everyone first started really going to tanning beds. Like, I remember girls going to the tanning bed for the 8th Grade Dance and stuff. I guess that would have made me like 11. The girls going were older then me. So we’re alone in the car and we’re just talking while he’s driving. Somehow the whole topic of tanning comes up. Maybe we were talking about someone who was super tan or something. I’m not sure.
“I’ve made a decision,” he said, turning as much to look at me as driving would allow, “I’m only going to think pale girls are good looking.” I sort of looked back with the confused expression. “No, seriously. Being tan like that is so bad for you but the reason everyone does it is because famous people are tan and models are tan. Everyone on TV is tan.” I was kinda starting to get where he was going. “But they do that because people keep thinking that tan is attractive. If everyone stopped thinking tan looked good then there would be pale famous people and models and TV people. A silent moment of understand passed as we both absorbed the moment, nodding to each other.
I’m sure I responded with something really profound like, “When we get to Red Lobster can we get the cheesy biscuits?” This being a stupid question because you ALWAYS get cheesy biscuits! It’s the reason you GO to RED LOBSTER. It was my favorite NOWD Resturant…love them biscuits!
Now, I’m pale, and sometimes, I won’t lie, I hate it. Like when I walk outside and the sun hurts my skin like I’m some sort of vampire half-breed (I’m thinking it’s around 6.25%.) or when I just walk to work and end up with a pink arm but I wouldn’t trade it. On that day pale kinda became a way of life for me, a healthy habit.
Look at that. My Dad taught me something.
