Dad

Today is my father’s birthday. So it seems like as good a time as any to make fun of him, right? Right.

My dad owns a big screen TV that is bigger than most European countries. It is high definition, bright color, flat screen, enormous, and quite a beautiful thing. And what does he watch on this miracle of visual technology? The Weather Channel. He loves him some Weather Channel. “Look it has our current conditions running across the bottom.” “Dad, our current conditions are right out the window, you have 245 channels, why don’t you watch something other than this?” “I do. Look, there are other weather channels too.” The man has issues. Could someone please explain to me the point of The Weather Channel? I just don’t get it. Unless there is a hurricane coming my way I am okay to get my weather by just walking out my door. It’s always a 100 percent accurate that way too.

Now, I know The Weather Channel has other things on it besides just the current conditions and the lady standing in front of the map with green blotches traveling across the U.S. They have shows and documentaries about the exciting weather that happens and the exciting weather that could happen and all that. But Dad has no interest in those shows, he is map man. Give him a digital rendering of any U.S. state and maybe some animated clouds with rain drops and he is entertained for hours. Nothing says the digital age like a big screen TV broadcasting a map in high-def.

When Dad has had enough of the smiley suns he can often be seen surfing over to another edge-of-your-seat-with-excitement channel - Outdoor Life. On this channel you will find many a man dressed in much camouflage hunched in many a remote locations looking to kill something, anything. This too is riveting TV. I think even the Outdoor Life people realized that their sports are boring because this weekend I witnessed their attempt to jazz up fishing for a television audience.

People. I am sarcastic, I have been known to exaggerate for the sake of amusement. But please know that I am being completely serious in the following description of this show. It is a bass fishing show. In an arena. Oh yeah. These fisherman guys go out and catch some fish and then pick their biggest 6 to weigh together in an attempt to get a higher combined weight than any of the other fisher guys. It seems like a pretty simple concept, right? Fish, pick, weigh. But no. Why just fish, pick and weigh when you can fish, pick, pull your boat into an arena full of screaming fans and then weigh?

These guys literally come into huge stadium (presumably located somewhere in the south) holding fish above their heads as if it were, I don’t know, the Dancing with the Stars trophy, or something. Then these fans go CRAZY as these guys pull their (still alive) fish out of the cooler and weigh them. That’s it. And these fans are going CRAZY. Well, one might argue that paying to watch someone weigh fish might mean that you are no longer GOING crazy so much as you’ve already arrived. But who am I to insult people who are most likely NRA members?

So then, there you have my father’s Sunday line-up of television programing. Yet another thing my dad and I seem to hold different opinions on. The two of us are different in so many ways that sometimes it seems bizarre that we are of the same blood. And then he yells from the other room, “Come quick Annie! The referee just got tackled by a linebacker. He went flying at least 5 feet in the air, you gotta see this!” And then I realize both of our blood loves to laugh. Preferably at someone who is falling down. Very hard. It’s hereditary, what can I do?

And the name Annie? It’s a nickname. That only my father calls me. We are not quite sure where it came from, although the general thought is it might have something to do with my middle name, which is Annette. But, really, I don’t think anyone knows why he calls me that and why I only turn my head when I hear him say it. It’s just one of those things.



The little boy on the left? That would be me. The full head of brown hair on the right? Considerably thinner and greyer as a result of my doings from then to now. Hmmm. Maybe the calming, meditative effect of The Weather Channel actually makes sense after you realize he’s had to deal with me for 28 years… Happy Birthday Dad. May the weather be forecasted correctly and the fish be aplenty and aheavy.