Playing: My Father
I remember standing with my father in the bed of his dinged up, chipping sky-blue truck (that we were convinced sang “chitty-chitty bang-bang when the engine was on) at the downtown gas station. The gas station was perfectly positioned to the San Diego International airport. By perfectly positioned I mean the planes would be directly over our heads shortly after they took off. We would throw our arms up and scream at the top of our lungs as each plane created a massive shadow over us.
I remember walking to “the bead shop” with my Father. It was an ordinary 99 Cent store but I only paid attention to the two foot bead section.
I remember my Father taking me up to the City Center Theater catwalk during performances.
I remember watching My Fair Lady with my Father. We would pause every few seconds during the songs in order to write down the lyrics.
I remember going to Joshua Tree with my Father. We would try and count the clusters of stars in the sky. “1…2…3…4…5…okay we’re done”.
I remember my Father smoked Newport cigarettes because they were amongst the cheapest in New York. I stole one while he was sleeping when I was 14. I inhaled and vomited.
I remember making my Father go on the “It’s a Small World” ride at Disneyland 5 times in a row.
I remember going to Todai Japanese Buffett with my Father. $12 – all you can eat.
I remember eating pork fried dumplings with my Father. 4 for $1 in Sunset Park, Brooklyn.
I remember going to the Alvin Ailey Galas with my Father when I was about 11. I would beg him to take me so I could eat overcooked steak with the dancers. They all looked like fantastic versions Beyonce to me.
I remember going skiing in the Catskills with my Father for my very first time. He took me down, what seemed to my 7 year old self as, the largest mountain in the world. I peed my pants. I also peed my pants on the car ride home! Tunnel traffic.
I remember my Father trying to take me shopping at Amvets Thrift. Tears were shed.
I remember going to Gido Goldman’s New Years parties. One year we filled three Ziploc bags with shrimp and pineapples skewers, went back to Brooklyn and watched the ball drop from TV. We could finally eat our shell fish and tropical fruit without the anxiety of someone else taking the last one.
I remember drawing on my Fathers apartment wall with pastels when I was 10. An entire wall in his studio was filled with tasteful rainbow swirls, Hawaiian flowers and planets.
I remember going into the woods in Rockland County with my Father. They neighbored my aunts house. We spent 9 hours on a fort. We sat in it for 10 minutes because the sky was pitch black at that point.
I remember listening to “Concerning Hobbits” on repeat with my Father. He made me swear it would be the song I would walk down the aisle to.
I remember getting wine drunk every night for a week and a half in the south of France with my Father. The laughs and memories were worth losing sleep over; I actually got no sleep because wine made him snore loud enough to vibrate the coast.
I remember my Father taking me three times in one day to get my face painted at the fair because he had a crush on the face painting lady. I chose to be a butterfly each time.
I remember waking up while it was still dark out to help my Father fry calamari. He owned The Tin Fish Stand on the Imperial Beach pier for a minute.
I remember decorating the faux Christmas tree with my Father. He kept it up for 7 years.
I remember that every single time my Father and I would hang up the phone we would say, “1…2…3…love you”. Seriously, every single time, without fail.
I remember the day my Father passed away. I drove to the Costa Mesa Performing Arts Center. We barbecued some sausages backstage and I showed him my art. He told me the nude model I had sketched from one of my classes was “rough” looking.
I remember going to karaoke in Tokyo, Japan with my Father. We sang Deep Purple with one of the Japanese stagehands named Mr. Man.
I remember my Father coming to visit when I was much younger. He would come by my local beach in La Jolla, San Diego where all my friends at the time would sit around. I was embarrassed because his nipples were pierced. Being on the road for 20+ will do that to you.
I remember, as do most people who knew my Father, the most frequent question he would ever ask: “Have I told you I loved you today?”
