Sure, a picture of my Dad and I together would probably be more apropo, but this picture of him (on the left, with the incredible jew-fro) and a school buddy (with the equally incredible moustache) from the early 70’s was just too hilarious to pass up.
My Dad is just plain cool. He always wears wayfarers, introduced me to Jazz music, taught me how to dance, taught me how to curse (beautifully, I might add) and never, ever lets me down – no matter what. He’s got an off the wall, crass sense of humor, and I’ll be forever indebted to him for showing me how to take a joke. He’s also a damn good cook.
When I was slaving away trying to finish up a screenplay on my birthday weekend, he and my Mom generously dropped by home made pulled pork sandwiches (with coleslaw) that would have made a southerner blush. And because he’s Dad, he threw in a couple of black and white cookies. (Back in the day, we used to sneak them home after dinner at Brent’s Deli, because Mom would never let us get away with it if she caught us trying to add them to the bill.)
Ever since I was a little girl, I thought he was the greatest, and having had a Dad who I can genuinely call one of my best friends has made me so excited for my little girl to get to spend time with her Daddy, who also celebrated his first almost-father’s day today. Lar is so fiercely protective of me, that to see he and Scott develop their own bond has been a welcome reminder that I’ve landed a great guy. It’s no wonder my first word was “Dadn.”
Tonight my Mom put her own aversion to fat and grease aside (’cause coming up on 38 years of marriage, I’m pretty sure she thinks Lar is a damn fine husband as well) and we took my Dad out to dinner at Animal – a place where it’s difficult to find a dish without pork and/or gravy (appropriately located right in the middle of the Orthodox Jewish Fairfax district.) We gorged on Pork Belly Sandwhiches (good, but not as good as Dad’s) and Pork Ribs (pretty freaking good) with Flatiron Steak and Halibut on the side. Given, it’s not on my “low sodium low carb” pregnancy diet, but I had to celebrate my wonderful father, did I not?
…Of course, my Dad will never read this, because although he’s the very same wack-job who defended he and my Mom’s racy dance-moves recently by unapologetically telling my Brother-in-Law: “If I want to shimmy down for ‘tang, I’m gonna shimmy down for ‘tang” he’s sworn to never look at this blog again after I casually mentioned the word “Dildo” in a post.
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