-Although born in 1942, raised conservatively, employed as an
accountant, and having served as a Marine, he was terribly accepting
of all walks of life and was never one to prejudge another person.
-My father was endlessly supportive when asked for help and never needed, nor requested,
an explanation. This is an extraordinarily rare quality in anyone.
-Around the time that Karma Chameleon came out and was everywhere, when was that, '84ish?, anyway, I vividly remember seeing a clip of the video on TV one Saturday and asked my father, "Dad, is that a boy or a girl??" I mean, I knew his name was Boy George, but he had long hair and wore makeup. I needed clarity and my Da gave the best answer - "He's what is known as a transvestite. A transvestite is someone that dresses in the clothing of the opposite sex. In this case, that is a man dressed as a woman." I thought, "Oh, okay." and went about the rest of my day. The reason I still remember this so clearly is because when I look back on that moment, my father gave a no nonsense textbook answer. He did not say "he's a freak!" or anything other than a straight up answer to my question. Since he did not cloud his response with any hatred or disgust or negativity of any kind, I therefore just thought it was normal and that a transvestite was a new kind of person I learned about. This moment is the root of my open mind.
-He was not afraid to be silly and make an arse out of himself, especially if it made any of us kids or my mother smile. We only have to mention the strange little faerie dance he would do from time to time that was half pixie and half vaudeville, and each of my brothers and my Mum roll our eyes and grin.
-My father left behind a legacy of insane statements that continue to make us all laugh.
-He was capable of change. For example, at first he was very against the term "marriage" being used by gay couples. He absolutely believed it was everyone's God given right to marry as they saw fit, but thought the term Civil Union should be used. It took me about a year of reminding him that thinking like that is like saying, "We get that you're black, and we believe you deserve to be treated like everyone else, however, we'd all prefer that you sit in the back of the bus. No hard feelings, of course..." Finally though, he came around and realised that it truly isn't equal if you exclude an entire group of people from using a word like marriage.
-Gave unique and memorable pieces of advice. My personal favourite was on how to pick the right man: "If a man takes good care of his car he will take good care of you."
-Often times he was brutally honest, such as the time when all us kids were whining at the dinner table about eating our veggies. Once my mother got up from the table he leaned towards us and through gritted teeth he grunted, "I hate vegetables more than you do, but if I have to eat them, so do you!"
-He was passionate about wrongdoings and evil done unto helpless or innocent people, and was a man who loved justice being served. (Why he watched the evening news each night is beyond me, as it only enraged him.) I remember in the late 1970s or early 80s (definitely before 1982) when the news was on and some crazy man was being filmed and the reporters were, I now know, speaking of his parole hearing. I asked my father who was that guy and I suppose for a moment he forgot that I was a, at best, five year old child, because he kinda freaked out. The man was Charles Manson and all I can recall is my father telling me that Manson was a "Lunatic!!" who killed a poor girl (Sharon Tate) and cut out the fetus of her unborn child. I wasn't scared when he told me this, but I guess it left an impression because it was the first time I heard the word fetus and it was the first time I ever heard my mother yell at my father. She screamed at him from the kitchen, "DON'T TELL HER THAT!!!" Anyway, Dad had a tendency to overreact but this time it was kinda warranted because Manson is a despicable creature.
-And lastly, he gave us winning fashion advice: "Don't wear a brown suit. Makes ya look like a turd."
(photo by me!! April 7, 1985)
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment