Friday, June 19, 2009

This could be part of the reason I am the way I am

This is a special Father's Day Blog post. And it has nothing at all to do with advertising. So feel free to move on to Adfreak or that porn site you were looking for if you want.

This morning, having breakfast at my favorite restaurant -- Bethesda's Tastee Diner -- I saw a TV segment on words of wisdom passed on to us by our fathers. My father has been gone for 30 years now, and I am sure that he gave me plenty of advice in his lifetime, but for some reason there is one that sticks in my mind more than others.

He told me that I should not tuck my shirt into my underpants.

He said that this would pull my underpants up outside my pants. This was not yet fashionable when I was 8 years old. Why this has stuck with me all these years is anybody's guess. I am not even really sure why I had been tucking my shirt into my underpants in the first place. Maybe I was way ahead of my time, sartorially speaking. More likely I was then, as I am now, an idiot. But there it is. Fashion advice from Harry Hinkle (seen at left in his high-school picture, circa 1937.)

And as I write this, somehow, the thought of me, my underpants and my father reminds me of the time that, at about 6 or 7, I was going "commando" for reasons known best only to myself and as I zipped up, I managed to get a fairly sensitive part of my anatomy caught in the zipper. That would have been my johnson. You know, my weiner, my burrito, my wrench, my pud, my trouser snake. Call it what you will, it was caught in my zipper and it hurt like hell.

And honest to God, I didn't know whether I should zip up or zip down at that point. Fortunately for me, my father knew the answer. Down. Definitely down.

I'm sure I remember him laughing as he yanked it down and released that bald-headed mouse from the zipper. Actually, the whole family had gathered 'round for it, both my parents and both of my sisters. Another Hinkle family event. We were close like that.

I remember my mother asking me why the hell I was wearing shorts with no underpants. Beats the hell out of me, but I sure haven't done it since then. Some lessons are learned more quickly than others.

Anyway, Happy Father's Day to my Dad. It's been 30 years, but I still miss him.

1 comment:

Sheila Campbell said...

Beautiful essay, Woody.