Thursday, December 13, 2007
welcome to brooklyn, dad
my dad is flying somewhere over michigan right now, en route to new york. have i mentioned ten times here that my dad has never set foot in any of my last four homes? which is to say, that he's never been to new york. this is a consequence of moving halfway across the world that i never considered--opting out of the dad's home improvement help that my local sisters got. hey dad, i know you've got like, only four days, but how 'bout checking out this crumbling tin ceiling in the kitchen?
i'm excited to show him around, because, like me (probably not a coincidence, as i am his flesh and blood), my dad is totally fascinated by everything, and he loves to talk and brag about his trips. so i feel all pressured to give him something to brag about. i leave that task to new york city. i guess it's a pretty impressive place all on its own without me even trying. but also, there's the fact that i owe all of my impressive reputation as a tour guide to this man en route on an airplane, who tirelessly toured every foreign exchange student in the state of california (whether or not they 'belonged' to us) to see every beach, drive through redwood tree and beautiful back road in northern california over and over and over, until i, as a child, rolled my eyes and said, "we're going to armstrong grove (which is now on my top five places in the world to be) AGAIN!?"
after much brain wracking i've decided to keep it simple and classic tourist. after all, it's his first time in new york. gotta see times square and rock center. and eat bagels, and pierogis and knishes and turkish food and thai food. dad, did you pack the tums?
seriously though, this trip will mark the first time that my dad is on my turf, which may be strange for someone who 'knows everything', who just happened to spawn another human who 'knows everything' (that would be me).
this featured note was a reminder to me the last time i visited california and borrowed a car of my dad's that almost made me cry with laughter. really dad--have you forgotten that i grew up late nights in the garage pumping the brakes and helped build that mgb? can change a tire. DEFINITELY know what a dip stick looks like and how to check the oil! love the drawing though. and the fact that my dad's handwriting is the only specimen of penmanship on the planet that is worse than my own.