My dad and I didn’t agree on much when I was growing up. He liked things like the Patriots, the Sox, the Bs and the Cs. He liked skiing and smoking and going to Hampton Beach. He liked going to the track and racing horses. Most of these things I did not like - even the beach part of the deal (my dad smoked so much that he managed to make even sea air smoky).
But, the one thing I did share with my father was a dark sense of humor. He had been in Vietnam; in fact, he did two tours as an infantryman in the army. He was Scottish and Catholic and grew up in a questionable Boston neighborhood with people who probably eventually did time for participating in a variety of illegal activities. In other words, for my dad, life was not a joy ride. In this, we agreed wholeheartedly.
I remember hearing George Carlin’s “7 words you can’t say on television” routine, and his take on driving, with my dad. My dad didn’t bother about swearing in front of me, which is probably why I still swear like a sailor on shore leave. Happily.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad and what I’ve inherited from both of my parents. From my father, it was definitely his cynicism and his sense of humor. When I read that George Carlin had died, it brought back a lot of memories of my own father. I miss them both.
George Carlin on death:
The famous driving routine - in 2 parts:
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I miss George too