Toast to a laughing man

As I prepare for my current adventure of a lifetime, I have dug deep inside myself to find the wise part of my wise fool persona. What this ultimately means is I have not often left the house to risk succumbing to temptation left and right, thus avoiding threats to my health, and more importantly … wallet. But I had to go out today for a couple of reasons. One to make sure my "office" (aka the favorite watering hole) did not miss me. But more importantly, today is a notable day. One year ago today my dad left on his LAST adventure of a lifetime. I came out to have a drink with dad.

Some might wonder why I would be sharing this on a blog devoted to humor. Because humor was the essence of my dad. He is directly responsible for MY sense of humor, so if you like it you can thank him. Otherwise it is ALL HIS FAULT. Now I can’t say we always saw eye to eye, especially after I grew a few inches taller than him, but if we had friction it was most likely because we were so much alike. As anyone who knew dad their finest memories of him, and they would always involve his bright smile and willingness to laugh. So what better place to honor his memory than a blog devoted to humor.

""I was trying to think of good humorous anecdotes to share here, and found out it was tough  … to single any specific ones out. Most of the memories I hold of him revolve around laughter, often to the point of tears. But suddenly I think of the first time he took me and my sisters to an "R" rated movie. we were all "under" age, especially for the movie he took us to. I am PRETTY sure he really did not know what Animal House was all about. But you could never be sure with him.

Or there was the time that dad first encountered my pierced ear. This happened in a time where guys only got pierced ears to make a statement (isn’t it funny how yesterday’s rebellion becomes today’s fashion statement), and dad did not even want my SISTERS to pierce their ears. Even when he was pissed he maintained his sense of humor.

I also gained my fashion sense from dad. No clothing was unwearable unless it was so torn that it could no longer maintain the shape of the original piece of clothing. And nothing was too embarrassing to wear in public. We would compete for the goofiest hat every time we did any kind of outdoor activity.

So here I am, sitting at the bar, raising a glass of top shelf scotch, having a drink with dad. Or I would be if the bartender remembers that I ordered it. Apparently she was shocked by me actually ordering something "GOOD". But this is something dad would have loved to drink, and he trained me right. Ah there it is!

Cheers dad! Keep on laughing! It makes the world a better place!

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