Saturday, January 29, 2011

Like Father, Like Son

I got an email this week about my dad’s doctor’s appointment and it totally cracked me up.

I know, you wouldn’t think that’s a topic given to laughs, but you don’t’ know my dad. 

First of all, Dad’s a workout freak.  Every morning, he goes into his workout room, puts on a music DVD by the Stones, Santana, ZZ Top, George Thorogood, or the Dixie Chicks, gets on his elliptical trainer (it’s kind of like a low-impact treadmill), and goes for about a half an hour. 

For the last year, Dad’s been having pains around his groin muscle that’s made it hard to lift his legs.  He stopped the exercise in hopes the rest would heal the groin muscle, but even after months it was still painful.  He’s been to a number of doctors but no one has been able to identify the problem.  He’s been taking steroids for it, and that alleviates the pain but as soon as he stops, the pain returns.

Anyway, he was finally diagnosed properly (inflamed bursa sac) and referred to a doctor at the Andrews Institute, who specializes in this particular malady.  This doctor has an outpatient procedure he does, so Dad got an appointment this week.  Mom emailed me about their high hopes that he’d be ready for the Steelers' Big Dance next weekend.

I wrote back that I was glad to hear it, saying  "He can’t be dancing in the streets if he has a bad groin."

After the treatment, Dad emailed me and told me about what happened when he made the co-pay for the procedure and examined the receipt from the receptionist:

The full page receipt said my diagnosis was ‘Chronic Growing Pain,’ instead of Chronic Groin Pain.  You know me; I just couldn’t let it go.  So I go back up to the receptionist and asked if they had some kind of prejudice against short people.  She stammered when she was looking at the receipt and thought I was serious.  We all had a good laugh, anyway.

And you all wonder where I get my wise-ass tendencies.  I totally would have done something similar.  I couldn’t have done the same joke though… no growing pains here… I’m 6’3”.  Now Dad on the other hand… He topped out long ago at 5’9” and has been shrinking ever since.  I expect one day I’m going to go look for him and all I’ll find is a pair of shoes with a Steelers cap sitting on them.

Last March when I did a couple posts about pranks, I mentioned some of the goofy shit my Grandpa used to do, but Dad was always yanking people as well.  I have no doubt it had an effect on me because I do the same stuff whenever possible. 

This is one of my all time favorite stories, and also goes to show that nature must love a good prank, because sometimes all the cards fall just right.

Back in the 70s, when Dad was traveling a lot, he was out in New Jersey on business.  His friend Lou worked in the plant he was visiting so while he was there, they decided to catch a Phillies baseball game at Veterans’ Stadium in Philadelphia.  (Wherever possible, Dad always went to games when he was traveling; baseball, football, hockey... whatever was in season.) 

At one point during the later innings, Dad wrote a number down in his program: 45,173.*

Louie saw that and asked, “What’s that for?

Dad said, “That’s what I think the attendance is.”

Lou said, “How the hell do you know that?

Dad said, “Well, I’ve been looking up and down the sections and doing a little math in my head and this is what I came up with.”

Lou let it drop and the game went on.

Then shortly afterwards, between innings, the scoreboard lit up with a “Guess the Attendance” game and put up four answers from which to choose.

Lou said, “Hey, there’s your number up on the board!

Some other people around overheard and wondered what was going on.  Louie explained to everyone how Dad had made some calculations and came up with one of those exact numbers.

On the scoreboard, they slowly eliminated one figure and then another, until there was nothing left but two numbers: my dad’s and another one.  Then the other one disappeared.  Dad totally nailed the attendance figure, right down to the person.

Everyone around him made a big fuss about it and gave Dad high fives and congratulations.

What no one there noticed was that a guy behind Dad was listening to the game on a transistor radio.  Earlier, Dad had overheard the announcer give the attendance figure and he jotted it down.  When Lou asked about it, he just pulled that calculations story out of his ass.  He didn’t know it was going to end up being a big scoreboard thing, but when it did, he just went with it.  Like I said, something in nature must love a good joke.

I don’t think he ever told Louie where he really got the number; he just let everyone think he was a mathematical genius.

Naturally, that was the wisest course of action.  Remember, they were in Philly.  The fans there are not usually known for their consideration or understanding.

Thanks, Dad, for showing your impressionable sons how much fun it is to screw with people.  Life lessons don’t come any better than that.

*I have no idea what the actual attendance figure was; in the scheme of the story, it doesn't really matter.  I used this particular number because it matched the  one in the picture.


Oilfield Trash said...

Your dad cracks me up. This was a great post Bluz.

bluzdude said...

Thanks Trash. He's a pisser. He showed me that there's no such thing as going too far for a joke. (As long as no one gets hurt.)

sherry stanfa-stanley said...

Yeah, this cements the whole acorn and the tree theory. I love your stories about your parents! Looks like you and I were both formed from pretty much the same mold. (That sarcastic, Italian, midwestern one.) Hope he's recovering well.

bluzdude said...

Yeah, acorn... tree... we're both nuts.

You would have been a welcome addition to The Barn.

injaynesworld said...

I love that you have such a great relationship with your dad. You're both very lucky. I really had none with my own father. Would yours consider adopting me?

Judie said...

Bluz, you need to have a son so when you get to be your dad's age, that boy can tell people what a cool, funny, twisted person his dad is! Or maybe you could just borrow a friend's son, or one of your nephews could be trained to say sweet things about you when you are old.

CrackerLilo said...

Brilliant, just brilliant! I knew you had to come by your smart-assedness naturally.

Philly sports fans seem scary. (My Future Stepdad is one, and he doesn't argue with me!) I agree, that was probably the wisest course of action.

bluzdude said...

Dad would adopt you in a heartbeat. Not too sure about Mom, though.

I'm sorry you missed out with your dad. His loss.

I'm afraid there will be no sons for me, but I'm hoping my nephews will fit the bill. I have to stay on their good side, because someone is going to have to take me in when Social Security is bankrupt and I'm all old and broke.

Philly is the one place I won't go in a Pittsburgh game jersey. OK, Oakland too.

I'm quite sure that there is a wise-ass gene, because both my brother and I came by it easily.

Mary Ann said...

Dad is too far away to go to Andrews Air Force Base and the President has dibs there anyway. He went to Andrews Institute, newly located in Gulf Breeze from Birmingham. They do sports medicine, treat numerous athletes, including Dad.
The only adoptee here will be Kris Letang. Maybe Sid C. All are welcome to visit, however. "Come git you some" as our Cajun neighbors say.

bluzdude said...

Mary Ann,
OK, I updated the post to get the real place.

Dad said...

Great blog entry dear Bluz, good to be the Center of attention, or King. Future blog entries about pranks might include the Neightbor Pranks, like outlining a Pig Pen, leaving a strip of uncut grass, and using golf clubs as tomato stakes; to mention a few. Anyway, laughter sure beat sadness. Dad , p.s. I might think of adopting Erin Andrews.

bluzdude said...

I was going to mention the "pig" story, but nixed it for clarity and "singularity of purpose" reasons. I'll definitely have to do a post on our "Neighbor Wars."

Judie said...

Stop! You're frightening me! That could sooo happen to us, sooner than we think!! Waaaa!

Raven said...

Too funny. Now I know where you get your sense of humor.

bluzdude said...

My sense of humor has many sources... my dad, my mom, my grandpa, my Uncle Joe... Comedy has always figured large in our family. I'm just carrying on the family business.

Jessica R. said...

Awesome. Have to love someone who can laugh their way through life!

Mary Ann said...

We gotta laugh or go insane.

Anonymous said...

So funny. I'm way too honest to do that well. Tom and I were talking yesterday about how I'd never be able to do stand-up, no matter how good my jokes, 'cause I'd constantly be apologizing. :) Your dad sounds like so much fun.

The Lissst! said...

That my friend, is a great story This a great blog as well.
I think I'll follow you around for a while.

Cher Duncombe said...

great stories about your Dad, Bluz! Now it all comes together. You get your wicked humor from your Dad and your writing ability from your Mom. Great genes in this family! I loved that your Dad called them on the "growing pains"! Wicked funny!

Kernut the Blond said...

Your dad sounds like a he'd be hella fun to hang out with! That he doesn't mind you posting his medical dilemma online is another testament to his character. (I'd be shot if I did such things.)

This story explains a lot about you, doesn't it. ;)

bluzdude said...

Yeah, what Mary Ann said. Given the choice, we opt to make fun of a given situation and laugh.

Apologize? Doing stand-up? Why on earth would you have to apologize for that? Only if the jokes are really, really bad, I’d say. You could apologize for wasting their time. Otherwise, you carry on!

The Lissst,
Welcome aboard! Glad you like what you’ve seen. I see you came over from No Adult Supervision. Any friend of Sally’s is a friend of mine.

Not to be all contrarian, but my mom had as much to do with my sense of humor as anyone. Mom taught me my first dirty jokes, after all.

It’s the “screwing with people” that I got from Dad, at which he is peerless. And after seeing this post, he reminded me of a couple more stories I have to tell in my next post.

Believe me, there are worse stories I could tell about Dad than talking about a sore joint or muscle. He knows I only tell the ones that make him look good!

Mrs. Bachelor Girl said...

Your dad and The Guy would get along like a house afire. He will never, EVER pass up an opportunity for a joke.

(I pretend to get annoyed, but really, it's one of my favorite things about him.)

bluzdude said...

Mrs. Bachelor Girl,
That's my kind of dude.

Unknown said...



bluzdude said...

And here I thought I heard all the stories. I'll have to ask about Senior Dinner... maybe I can get another post out of it.