Socks, like myself, has a routine every morning. Right after I get up, he’s waiting patiently to go outside. He does his business, and in a few minutes (longer if it’s warm out) he’s knocking on the door to come in. Once he’s in the house, the routine continues to the next step. He waits patiently, once again, watching everything I do. He’s waiting to be “bundled”. I have him trained for the word “Nest”. He expects a blanket–one of HIS blankets–to be laid out smoothly for him, then he hops in and gets comfortable, and I wrap him up tightly within it, with just his head peeking out of the roll. From that point he is fully content for hours, or until he forced from his nest by other matters or distractions. When I saw this animated GIF today, I got quite a kick out of it! If I could only train Socks to do this, that’s one less chore I’d have to do each morning! But then again, I enjoy it, so I actually wouldn’t want to stop doing it anyway… Nevermind, Socks.
Today is my dad’s birthday. If he had a Facebook page, I’d be uploading this photo to it. He was born 3/19/1931. I miss the old fart. He would have been 84. He died 6/7/2008. These numbers just came to me out of the blue, I have no idea how or why I have them memorized, but there they are.
His nickname was “Bozzo”, misspelled just that way. Because of the way his hair stuck out on both sides when he woke up in the morning. Such a clown.
I just finished an audiobook called “AsapScience: Answers to the world’s weirdest questions, most persistent rumors, and unexplained phenomena”. Wow, that title got me right away. It was a fairly short book though – only a couple hours long. One of the things explained in it is why time seems to go faster the older we get. The days and the summers of our childhood seemed to last forever, and now, being over 50, everything just zips by so fast it’s crazy. I think, as a result of this, most of the memories I have of my father are from my childhood.
The Hong Kong Flu nearly killed him when I was a kid.
He used to by me electronic toys, or buy one for him and one for myself so I could learn how to use it and show him how to. Plenty of visits to Chester’s Electronics and Radio Shack were made, and I once bought a “build-it-yourself computer”. The rest, as they say, is history. He put the bugs in my head and they shaped my life.
He was a hoarder. Rummage sales and flea markets were his favorite excursions, and he just HAD to come back with something every time. He was a CB’er and a scanner enthusiast, always listening to both, and he really enjoyed the early days of cell phones, when nothing was digital and with the right type of scanner you could constantly eavesdrop of dozens of personal phone conversations at any given time. Ah, those were the days.
He lived the American Dream: He built a large family (7 children), worked 40 years to retirement, and had a long happy marriage. I think ALL of those things are amazing accomplishments. These days, any one of those seems next to impossible.
Anyway, nice job dad. You did great. I wish I had told you sooner. Here’s some photos.