
He had the most delightfully demented sense of humor. I remember when I was in labor for my first child, I called my parents to say I was heading to the hospital. My father offered a tender bit of advice, words that remain with me to this day: “Good luck,” he said, “and don’t go home empty-handed.”
And this is how the conversation went when he called to inform his sister about a death in the family:
"Joyce," he began to break the news, "how many uncles do we have?"
"Why, we have one uncle," she answered, to which he bellowed, "WRONG!"
My father would do anything to score a laugh--walk into walls, summon a waitress by calling, Nurse!--whatever it took. Daddy was always on, always looking for the perfect opportunity to quip, "Other than that, Mrs. Kennedy, how'd you like Dallas?"
His sudden death was both a shock and a blessing. Soon before he died, Daddy had been diagnosed with throat cancer. The heart attack spared him what have would undoubtedly been a much more painful and trying way to go.
We gave him an awesome wake and funeral; he was laid out next to a billboard of himself that had been part of the bus company's promotional campaign a few years earlier. (Daddy prided himself in being a "male model.") The funeral began with a bugle playing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and my aunt, who's a pastor (!), performed the service. Afterward the funeral director said he never heard so much laughter coming out of that room. Daddy would have loved it.
When I think of my father's sense of humor and how several years after his death I began to perform stand-up comedy, I'm reminded of a passage in Natalie Goldberg's book, Long Quiet Highway.

Thanks, Dad, for everything you passed on to me. Except for the crappy hair gene--that's something you really could have kept.
...and your Daddy would have loved this tribute.
ReplyDeleteLinda Lou,
ReplyDeleteWhen you were in Albany last week we sat around with friends telling stories about Daddy. I did the same last night. No matter who is at the table, there is always so much laughter. That is how he is remembered. So, I raise my Archie Bunker mug tonight, Here's to Daddy, the funniest man ever! He lives on in all of us who loved him.
Nice post!
ReplyDelete