Looking back, I am pretty sure most of my crazy family stories are about my dad. If it was a stupid idea, he would do it. If it was illegal, he’d probably do it in front of the cops just to spite them. If it involved a good time, he was down no matter the cost. He was an abusive man who drank too much and cared too little about the people around him. He was also a talented artist and pianist, he was funny and charming when he was sober and had the ability to make his kids believe any story he spun but those kinds of memories get overshadowed by all the bad ones. The ones about the cops dragging him from the house as he screamed at your mother, the times you had to call them there yourself because you feared what would happen if he didn’t leave, the times he hurt you but never seemed to remember the next day. However not every bad memory is without humor, and my father got himself in situations that were both sad and highly amusing. Here is a few of my favorites.
After a night of hard drinking, Tim loaded himself into his light blue Nissan and motored over to the next bar in town. This bar was at the bottom of an incline and the lot was higher up. Stumbling out of his car, his breath reeking of Busch Lite he made his way towards the door only to be smacked off his feet by a car. He was furious! Who had hit him? Oh, he’d beat them up for sure! Trying to get up onto his feet, looking for a fight, he was knocked down again! Only this time the car fully rolled over him, then once more. When someone finally helped him, he looked around and realized that the car that had hit him, 3 times, was his own. He had not put the car in park when he had gotten out and got slammed by his own car, 3 times. My mother thought it was the best example of don’t drink and drive that she ever saw.
Once after, you guessed it…drinking, my father was in the bar bathroom and stumbled into someone. The man didn’t say he was sorry or anything, he just stared at my dad. So, he punched him. The man he had seen who had not uttered a word was himself. It was a mirror and he went to jail.
The time he relieved himself on a car, which turned out to be a police car with a police officer inside of it. He was arrested.
The time he relieved himself while driving into a beer can and threw it out the window of the moving car, but it went back in through the back windows and dumped all over his grandmother on their way to a wedding and she smacked the hell out of him for ruining her plum church dress. The wedding by the way? Was his own. We often wondered if the marriage even counted since he was drunk.
My father usually ended up in jail at least once a month for his various adventures or acts of abuse towards his wives or children. After my mother passed away, I chose to remove him from my life for my own well being but I do hope that wherever he is, he’s amusing and annoying a whole new bunch of people with his lack of judgement and forethought.