Family Ties

This past weekend, we drove down South to Huntington Beach where my best friend from elementary through most of high school was getting married. My parents came to the wedding too. I was all set for a good time despite driving 8 hours Saturday and Sunday. But, well, damn that SKH family hex.

I'll preface this by saying that I love my dad. He's a good hardworking guy whose done a lot for me. He's worked construction since he was 16 and never missed a day of work. He's funny and offensive and the line between the two is VERY narrow. So much so that I want to start a blog for him: Papa SKH's Pearls of Wisdon ("More like a Pearl Necklace Dude!") And, offensive is okay when in the privacy of our house. Not so much at a wedding with 150 guests who probably don't want to hear AC/DC no matter how many shots of over-priced tequila they'd paid for. I saw the sign of a questionable time when he was crabby about not having a drink in hand during the ceremony.

We all took turns trying to babysit, especially once he got the dead eye. A typical conversation went something like this:

"You've got a good head."
"Thanks, dad, I appreciate that."
"But what's UP with HOMEBOY over HERE? WHAT'S HE WEARING?"
"Uh, dad, he can hear you."
"HEY, I know whatsup. I'm your old man, but you! You've got the head."
"Thanks."
"You know, your moms all like..."
"Like what dad?"
"Yeah."
"If you guys ever need, you know..."
"I know dad, thanks, I appreciate it."

See, he's offensive *and* sweet. When he saw the bride, he started crying and said, rather articulately for the evening: "I remember you and SKH being all dorky and young. Are you happy?" She nodded and cried a little. "Well then, rock on. I'm proud of ya, giiirrll."

So far, not so bad. I got to shake my bootie and swing dance with husband. And then...well, we drove back to the hotel and he passed out in the back seat. We tried to convince him to get out, but he wouldn't hear of it. Luckily (depending on how you look at it) the bride's parents were coming out to the parking lot at the same time. Brides mom sweet talked my dad out of the car.

The next morning we went to breakfast. Dad ordered a beer. The waitress delivered it, saying, "Here's your hair of the dog," trying to pretend it was entirely normal for a guy in his fifties to be ordering beer at 8:30 in the morning at a diner. As she walked away, he offered another pearl:

"Dude, she's like totally dust in the wind."