Dad was basically a good parent, as was mom for that matter. We kids always had, for better or worse, plenty of food to eat and clean, if not necessarily new, clothes to wear. Our parents weren’t on the way to divorce, in fact hardly ever fought, and treated us with respect most of the time. Discipline was always, or at least almost always, exercised; and love was always, or at least almost always, assumed, if seldom expressed. There was that one time they completely forget my birthday, my 16th birthday to be exact. I mean no party, surprise or otherwise, no gift, expensive or otherwise, no card, signed or otherwise, not even a freakin’ “Happy Birthday.” But who keeps track?
Anyway, dad was basically a good parent. He was, however, incredibly straight. And by straight I mean weird. Take, for example, his habit of always parading from the bathroom (after a bath, for instance) to the bedroom completely naked. Not necessarily a problem except that our house was very small and had only one bathroom (for two adults, and five children, and occasional guests, by the way, but that’s another story) and the path from the bathroom to dad’s bedroom passed through the corner of the living room. Not necessarily a problem, except when I, or more likely my brother, was entertaining a friend or friends, especially a girlfriend or girlfriends (yet another story). Now understand that dad was in no way an exhibitionist, or worse. For him the naked parade was no more than the most practical way to get from point “a,” the bathroom, to point “b,” the bedroom. All the clothes being in the bedroom, it was only practical to travel naked.
Speaking of getting from point “a” to point “b,” dad considered all automobiles (he always called them automobiles, never cars) nothing more than a means to that end. Consequently, automobile options (he referred to them as frills) were never justified. Therefore, when a new car (I mean automobile) was purchased, it had to be without any frills. Frills included, but were not limited to, fancy upholstery, fancy wheels, or even hubcaps for that matter, fancy paint scheme, extra trim, or any trim for that matter, automatic transmission, or anything automatic for that matter, or a radio. An optional heater was his one concession to extravagance. We lived in Vermont where winter can get a little brisk. Speaking of winter, winter required the changing of the tires to “snow treads.” New snow treads being potentially quite expensive; our snow treads were always retreads. Of course, you could never get four matching retreads, but that would have been a frill anyway. Fortunately, the lack of hubcaps usually diverted attention away from the mismatched tires.
Dad didn’t travel much. I never understood why, in that he purchased and read, cover to cover, every issue of National Geographic since January of 1937 (yet another story). He and mom did make one trip of note, to an Indian reservation in the mid-west, that their church (the First Congregational Church of Essex Junction, Vermont) had sponsored for many years. Dad documented the trip in photographs (always photographs, never pictures or heaven forbid “pics”). By document I mean that for every motel in which they stayed during the trip, he took four carefully composed photographs: one of the entry door of their motel unit of the day; one looking across the street from the motel; one looking up the street; and, of course, one looking down the street. I don’t remember seeing any photographs of the actual Indian reservation, but I’m not sure if there were none, or if I just dozed off before we got to that part of his comprehensive vacation album.
If not particularly well-traveled, Dad was, nonetheless, well-informed. In addition to the aforementioned National Geographics he read voluminously, his knowledge of all things trivial was impressive. Not only could he name (and spell correctly, by the way) the capitals of all 50 states, but he also knew the names and capitals of most every country on the planet. Speaking of planets, he knew the names of all the planets in the solar system (not very impressive) as well as the names of all their associated moons (very impressive), including our moon (named, in case you didn’t know, The Moon).
Knowledge, however is not necessarily wisdom; and dad was definitely not the wisest wizard in the woodpile (OK, I have no idea what that means). To his credit, if not to his credibility, he believed all people were basically good, despite abundant evidence to the contrary, that his children would never lie, despite abundant evidence to the contrary, that husbands and wives seldom stray, despite abundant evidence to the contrary (although dad and mom never even thought of straying, at least to my knowledge), and that the American economy would never see another depression (which would be nice, but abundant evidence to the contrary makes it very unlikely). And for nearly all his life, being the good parent that he was, dad taught his children that there was a loving God, and that all people who believed in Him, and attended church regularly, and did their best to always do the right thing, would enjoy an eternal, joyful afterlife in heaven.
To his credibility, but very sadly, he questioned those beliefs at the very end.
02/11/12
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