Starr visited my blog last night. I don’t mind, I have little to hide from her. She did suggest that next year for Father’s Day, instead of whining, that I should post some of the funny things that Grampa does.
Funny? Maybe it’s a generational thing, but I don’t see him as funny. Maybe it’s easier to step back and look at the big picture and laugh when you aren’t the daughter. I will have to give it some thought.
The first thing that popped into my mind was the bats. When we lived in Reno, one evening we went to watch the thousands of bats leave their resting place under a bridge and go out looking for food at sunset. The sight of this seemingly never ending flow of bats from under the bridge and the cloud of bats that you could see far into the distance was very impressive as were the sounds the bats were making. Starr and I were talking about the noise and my dad looked at us like we were crazy, “there is no noise,” he declared. When we disagreed, he insisted that we were wrong and he was serious. If it was outside his range of hearing, it quite simply didn’t exist. We were wrong. We still giggle at that memory.
My second thought was the cruise and then Starr reminded me of several more. Yeah, maybe by this time next year I will be able to think of several “dad” stories to tell.
Until then, thoughts of the cruise brought back memories of these doodles. During our days at sea, I found that I couldn’t read comfortably without succumbing to motion sickness. So if things were slow and there wasn’t a program or movie that I wanted to see, I would get out my notebook and sketch. Lined paper and a ball point pen. Awesome. I designed numerous stained glass panels. All of which still only exist on paper. I sketched the statue by the pool. Several times.
And I did a couple quick silly pictures of my traveling companions.
My dad, who was constantly seeing spots and birds that weren’t there. He kept forgetting to clean his glasses:
My mom, who spent all of her free time on board playing bridge:
And Starr, who refused to go the ice cream bar alone:
She looks a little mischievous in my sketch, probably because she knew that if I went with her to the ice cream bar, I wouldn’t be able to resist getting some of my own. And I didn’t. Resist that is.
The honest truth is that while a majority of the staff were wonderful people, not all of them were. Starr was 15 and kind of cute. I think it was a combination that and the fact that 90% of the cruisers were senior citizens that caused some of the male employees to pay special attention to Starr. Making comments and staring uncomfortably at her. The ice cream guy was one of them. She loved ice cream and wasn’t willing to give it up, she just needed company. Protection. My ass and I were happy to provide it!
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