My dad traveled abroad a lot on business when I was growing up, and what I remember most about those trips was the way everything seemed so much drearier when he wasn’t around. And how much fun it always was when he came back. He brought presents, of course – model dinosaurs from the Natural History Museum in London, coins from Japan, truly awful Norwegian candy – but the best part was always hearing his stories about the trip (which usually involved things like taking a day off to climb mountains, or tracking down the old Japanese man who knew my grandfather when he was stationed there after the war). He’d give us the whole saga in installments, before bed.
Every time he got wind of the fact that his employers might be thinking about sending him to a new country, he would get a bunch of language books and tapes and start trying to teach himself the language. It never worked, exactly – or rather, he could usually pick up a few phrases, but they never stuck – but we ended up with the world’s best private library of introductory language textbooks. Polish, Russian, Hebrew, Korean, Japanese … you name it, my parents probably have it in their basement. And he let me study and practice with him, although I’m sorry to say that none of the languages really stuck with me, either. That was one of the great things about my dad: as far back as I can remember, he treated us like intelligent people – we never heard the words “You’re too young to learn about this” or “This wouldn’t interest you” from him. He was one of those people who was curious about the world, and expected his kids to be curious too.
Hey, no fair having a Dad who is a much-adored and respected Doper !!! You could go around tripping the elderly and beating housecats and still score points, just cause of Dad.
No fair !!!
( When I do time, I wanna do time where Qadgop works. Imagine having him as your personal Dr? )
While my dad has several qualities that deserve mention, I’m particularly proud of something he did last week. At his office Christmas party, he bought a large set of holiday dishes for his Secret Santa person. The woman who received them was really happy. When she was about to leave, a man offered to carry them down the stairs for her. Whether he didn’t hear Dad when he said “Hold the bag by the bottom” or simply doesn’t speak English very well isn’t clear. He held the bag by its handle. Dishes shattered all down the stairs, leaving her with only a few.
Although he hadn’t broken the dishes, Dad still felt bad that she wasn’t going to get her gift. He dashed off to Wal-Mart and bought her a watch. He’s sweet like that.
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