Picture John Wayne riding his horse with his dog, who is perfectly named Dog, following obediently behind him as he ridges off into the sunset but covered in grease. That is my dad. If you've ever watched one of his movies you know that he is blunt, hard-core, simple (yet so complex, sigh), and loyal. The way he says whatever he feels and acts like he doesn't give a shit is what reminds me of my dad the most. We actually call my dad John Wayne among a million other nicknames. He owns every John Wayne movie there is and can quote every single one (I think). Growing up you can guess that I've had to sit through my fair share of these movies. I've hated them with blind rage in the past but as an adult I find them charming in a way, probably because I just think of my dad when they're on. My dad is also a loyal Louis L'Amore book reader. He probably has just about every single thing he has ever written and has read them many times over. No kidding.
[you're probably wondering at this point what John Wayne and my dad have anything to do with aliens impregnating whales?]
With all of that said, I'm going to blast on him for a minute, because that is what we do with each other. Phone calls between my dad and I leave Tyrone shaking his head. Most of what is said between us isn't understood by anyone else. My family totally gets it (if they are reading this they are nodding in agreement). I like to think that our conversations are special though. To a passerby it may sound as if we are complete assholes or two step way from a straight jacket for that matter but we understand what we're saying. He insults me, I insult him back, we laugh, we yell, we talk about work and whatever random thing either of us decide to pull out of our asses. And I serious mean random, most of it isn't true or about anything in reality. Sometimes he even calls just to talk to Fred (my dog) and will make me put him on the phone.
Okay, back to the blasting. As rough and tough as he comes across, and surely is, he has some pretty interesting likes, two of which will forever baffle me. He loves, hearts even, Lionel Richie and loves reading the Enquirer. My mom didn't find out until the night of their honeymoon that he totally hearted Lionel. My dad will even read that one magazine that is like the Enquirer who just straight up makes shit (because you know the Enquirer is all totally real). You know about aliens having sex with whales that become pregnant with giraffes? They don't just make shit up they take fake to a whole new level and then make up even more shit on top of that.
Maybe I should write for them. I could do it.
"Worlds Largest Mole Hosts Family of Six for Thanksgiving right on Grandma's Nose"
Man, and if I had my dad's help we could come up with some really outlandish stories. Even as I write this my brain is filled with atrocities.
"Conjoined Twins Marry Unich yet Vow to Re-populate Abandoned Mining Town"
"Man with Snake Arm falls in Love with local Plastic Surgeon"
"Scientists Discover New Breed! Bunny-Rhino!" - complete with pink fuzzy fur!