Posted by admin on May 26, 2010 in
My Crazy Dad Let’s go back a few decades for my next post. When I was a small child and my mind was still being molded, my dad decided it would be fun to convince me that I was an alien. Well, not just me, but that our entire family was aliens. I was probably about 4 the first time I heard my dad mention the “mother planet†in passing. Of course, I did not know what that meant, so I didn’t think much of it. It progressed from there. My dad and sister kept talking about contacting the “mothership†and getting word back to the “mother planet.â€
I remember when I was probably 5, I asked my dad how he and my sister Hilary would contact the “mothership†and what they were going to tell her. My dad explained to me, quite calmly with a completely straight face, that a mothership was not like mother nature; it was our vehicle to the mother planet. I asked why the mother planet was not like mother nature, and he laughed slightly calling me a silly baby and telling me that I was too young to understand. He started to walk away, knowing that I wouldn’t let him not tell me the rest. I grabbed his hand and said “no daddy, you’re going to explain it to me; I’m old enough!†So, this began the story of Planet Kreplach.
My dad launched into a compelling tale of our family history. He told me about how my great grandparents came here from Kreplach on our family mothership. They came as explorers to meet the natives of this planet and learn about their primitive ways. He told me of the advanced technology that our fellow Kreplachians had back at home. So, of course, I asked when I could go back to the mother planet. I remember my dad’s smile when I asked, I thought it was genuine love for a growing girl, but it was definitely amusement. He told me that I couldn’t return to the mother planet until my horns grew in. I went wide-eyed and said “my wha-what?!?â€
“Oh, your horns honey, didn’t I tell you that the biggest difference between a Kreplachian and a Human was that Kreplachians have bigger brains and grow horns? We file ours down to fit in with the Humans. You know, they think we look like their mythical demon devil when we let our horns grow out.â€
Of course, I freaked out a little. I asked if girls got them too and if I would have to file them down. My dad told me it would be a few years before mine started to develop. He told me that Hilary had been filing hers for about 2 years now, she was about 11 at the time. He explained to me that it was just a part of growing up.
My sister and dad would regularly discuss the mother planet and the mother ship at dinner. I remember at one dinner, my mom was frustrated with the two and them and got up and left telling them that they were impossible. My dad explained that my mom didn’t think I was old enough to handle the news that we were aliens. He said that he trusted me not to ask her about it because it would just upset her. Dinners like this one went on for a few years. I remember when I was about 8, my dad would rub my head telling me he was looking for my horns.
So my crazy dad had me convinced for a few years that we were aliens from Planet Kreplach. Anytime that I claim not to be gullible, I’m reminded that I’m really an alien with enhanced intelligence and filed horns.
Tags: Crazy Dad
Posted by admin on May 16, 2009 in
My Crazy Dad My dad has made me promise that I would write a book about him before I died. I’m pretty sure he’s writing it into the will that I won’t get anything until I publish a book describing his crazy exploits and immortalize him in literature. The only problem I have is that I have no clue where to start! There are so many great stories to tell about him that it really will take a book to tell them all. But, here goes a shot at a crazy dad story…
I come from a morbid family. Death is accepted as part of life and we tend to joke about the inevitable as if it’s something seen in a sitcom or a new flavor of food. That being said, I have discussed my father’s death with him multiple times. I literally have a list of things that I have to do when he dies.Â
Step #1: pull the gold teeth from his mouth and make jewelry from it for my sister and me. That’s sick in so many ways. Not only does my dad want me to reach into his cold, dead mouth, but he wants me to reach in there with a pair of garage pliers and pull the gold teeth way in the back of his mouth! What if he goes into rigamortis? His answer to that question was, “well you’re going to have to do it one way or another, because I don’t want the damn mortician profiting anymore from my death!”
Step #2: take all valuable pictures off the walls and take all of my mom’s jewelry. He wants everything of value out of the house, the vault, the garage, the pirate treasure trunk buried somewhere in the desert and the random stashes I’m sure he has all over the place. I can imagine the map that he’s drawn for me will look something like a treasure map with big X’s at the places that I need to visit to get the valuables.
The list goes on and on, until we get to the funeral. The details of the funeral are still being hashed out. For a long time, my dad wanted to be cremated and thrown off the back of a cruise ship. He wanted us to go have a big party for his death. Again, he was writing it into his will…along with the treasure map.Â
However, recently, he’s been thinking that he wants to buried like a king. And, who were the ultimate kings? The Pharaohs of course! What does that mean? That means that my dad wants us to build him a pyramid on his land (which I will explain in another post…long story) and have him mummified! I would have to go on the treasure hunt with his crazy map and bury the treasure with him for some grave robbers to find sometime in the distant future. I wonder if he’ll buy a cat just to have mummified with him, or have his “servants” burried with him for the afterlife. I’m not sure who would qualify as his servants, but it damn well better not be me! While the idea of mummification seems like an interesting one for anyone to consider, I reminded my dad that to mummify him, they have to remove all of his internal organs, including sucking his brain out through his nose. That idea actually made him more excited about being mummified! He told me that was awesome and should be done to everyone before they are buried regardless of the method.
While most peoplemight jokingly talk about cool ways to be “put to rest,” most of them don’t actually mean it. My dad actually means it. I could see him commissioning the pyramid or making sure we had to go on a cruise with his ashes…and it would not be the oddest thing he’s ever done. Ironic, yes, since he technically would be dead and still influencing insanity, but fun never-the-less.
Tags: Crazy Dad