Christmas at Dad's
We went out to eat with Dad and Sharon, to their favorite restaurant, Paradiso. Dad had the capaesant gratinia and I had the misto di mare. Both dishes had scallops. Dawn and Erin and I shared a bottle of Monte di Torre Pinot Grigio.
Rob hates immigrants who work at McDonald's and don't learn English. They apparently don't know how to toast the muffin of an Egg McMuffin correctly.
I had an awful awkward moment when I opened one gift and it was the same printer that Marianne and John and Erin had given me the day before. Sharon and Main had both bought it off Amazon from my Wish List, but something went wrong. I felt so bad for Dad and Sharon. It's an expensive and generous gift and I felt like I was disappointing them by already having received it.
Although it's a sweet sweet piece o' computer accessory. I had stayed up late the night before setting it up. Dawn and I haven't had a working printer in months, so it's a big improvement over the status quo. Plus it's a copier and scanner. And it's fast and quiet.
Dad and Sharon also quite generously gave me the Palm Z22 PDA that I was wanting. My Handspring Visor is really old and I'm worried it's going to die any minute now. I keep so much information in that thing. An old girlfriend of mine used to refer to her purse as her 'life,' because everything she needed was in there. I think of that when I think of my old Handspring Visor. Hell, it was like one of the first gifts another old girlfriend, Erin Sellman, gave me, and we broke up in 2001. I think she gave it to me for my birthday in 1999, so it's coming up on 7 years old.
The biggest treat of the day was getting to see my Dad's paintings. He's been learning to oil paint for the last couple of years, but I'd never before seen any of his work. He showed us his little studio in the basement with like a dozen works. Mostly they were studies on paper. But one was a terrific seascape on canvas that he said was his first painting. I figure if that one was his first, then he's going to do some great stuff. And he says that he's doing it so he'll have something to give his children, so I'm all excited about having a painting done by my father.
Actually, something of both an inspiration for him as well as maybe a burden is a painting he has done by his father. It's a landscape done in watercolors and it's absolutely amazing. It's signed and dated, the date being the year 1924, so my grandfather painted it when he was 12. So on the one hand my father treasures this, but on the other hand it's so unbelievably well done that I would find it incredibly intimidating.
Although I suppose it's similar to the way that I think of my grandfather when I'm working on the house or making something in the woodshop. Grandpa built his own house and was a master craftsman, and I'll never be able to do his level of work. But I'm happy being able to do what I can do. My father is confident in what he's doing and having fun doing it and wanting to learn more, so I'm happy for him.
posted by 4mastjack @ 10:01 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Re: your brother's feelings about immigrants who don't learn to speak English; I'd tell him that one wonderful way to educate yourself is to travel.
I used to feel the same way about immigrants and English, but then, that was 20 years ago. The first time I went into a fast food restaurant and saw a menu in Spanish (in Delaware) I thought it was ridiculous. I felt the same way when ATM machines had Spanish menus.
Jump ahead 18 years or so. I was traveling through Spain with my with wife and two friends. We found English-speaking people in most of the larger cities, such as Madrid and Barcelona, but when we were traveling in between we were pretty much on our own, language-wise. Every so often we would go to a gallery or archeological site and I would be fascinated by what I was seeing and disappointed that the markers were only written in Spanish or Catalan. Then, one ancient site had markers written in Spanish, Catalan, and English. It was then that I realized my folly from years before. These English translations in Spain didn't hurt any Spanish people, but they helped me enjoy my trip enormously. The menu in Delaware didn't hurt me, but it helped the Spanish-speaking people. So, what's wrong with that?
So, travel, people. I've been out of the U.S. a few times, and I've learned some valuable lessons. And I have to credit my dad, too. He grew up in South Carolina in the late 1920s and 1930s. As you can imagine, most of his family members are prejuduced. Dad grew up with separate water fountains and didn't realize that they were wrong -- UNTIL HE TRAVELED. Dad became a military policeman at the end of the second World War, and, due to exposure to malaria and a bad back, he stayed stateside. He traveled on troop trains all over the U.S. AND SAW THAT NOT EVERYONE IS THE SAME. He saw that people in other towns do things differently. These experiences make you question your life and your surroundings. It's a good thing, as Martha Stewart might say.
And another thing; I have seen my dad's family tree. In the last 300 years or so, very few of his family members have left South Carolina. A few went down to Georgia. As far as I could tell, Dad was the only one to head north. Thank God!
But getting back to my point about the menu and the language thing. I am reminded of the Traveling Wilburys tune "The End of the Line" in which George Harrison sings, "Remember to live and let live..." It may seem like a stretch, but this line of thought brings me to gay marriage. I'm 100 percent in favor of it. My claim is that if a gay couple wants to get married, IT DOES NOT HARM MY MARRIAGE ONE IOTA. The sky does not fall. My life is the same. But if a gay couple gets married, it makes a WORLD of difference to them! Live and let live! Let them marry! Let them have the rights and protections under the law that we enjoy! To paraphrase another George Harrison tune, "Give them love, give them love, give them peace on earth..." In my mind, this is clearly a secular rights decision that should be made by every court in the land, and it is ridiculous and outrageous that it is not the law everywhere right now. I swear, the more I think about it, the more I want to just stay in Europe next time, where they seem so much more progressive about such things.
So.. I've gone from English-speaking immigrants to gay marriage in one reply. Give your brother my regards.
Post a Comment
<< Home