Watermelons
I went to Brownsville for the weekend to see my dad for Father's Day and, well, to get away from the mucky muck of the land of smog and tourists. As a Father's Day present, I cleaned my dad's house and gave him a framed picture of me. Because I'm nice like that.
For dinner, my dad had two requests. He wanted to eat in a place that would let him have a cigarette and watch the Spurs game. So, poof, we went to a seedy sports bar that is special to me because I love their wings and once they let me have a beer when I was 18.
But that's beside the point.
The conversation came in spurts: between watching the game and eating like ravenous, ravenous beasts, the conversation went as follows.
My dad: "It must have been hard living in the Wild West. When people got sick, they most likely died. When people had sex, they most likely had babies. You know, syphillis came from sheep."
My man M and me: "Oh?"
[sidenote: Yes, my dad DOES talk about these things. ]
Dad: "Yep. Those sheep lovers should have just gone out and found themselves a watermelon patch. People used to do that, you know."
Us: "They used to do what?"
Dad: "You know." (He took a drag from his cigarette.)
My man M: "That's weird. I bet the kids did that when I lived in Dilley. It's the watermelon capital of the world."
Me: "Really?"
My man M: "Yeah. I wonder what I would've done if I had stayed in Dilley. I probably wouldn't be in advertising. I would've probably picked watermelons..."
Me: "Over women?"
I'm glad he didn't stay in Dilley -- not that there's anything wrong with it.
Oh, and by the way, yes...we're moving to Dallas.
For dinner, my dad had two requests. He wanted to eat in a place that would let him have a cigarette and watch the Spurs game. So, poof, we went to a seedy sports bar that is special to me because I love their wings and once they let me have a beer when I was 18.
But that's beside the point.
The conversation came in spurts: between watching the game and eating like ravenous, ravenous beasts, the conversation went as follows.
My dad: "It must have been hard living in the Wild West. When people got sick, they most likely died. When people had sex, they most likely had babies. You know, syphillis came from sheep."
My man M and me: "Oh?"
[sidenote: Yes, my dad DOES talk about these things. ]
Dad: "Yep. Those sheep lovers should have just gone out and found themselves a watermelon patch. People used to do that, you know."
Us: "They used to do what?"
Dad: "You know." (He took a drag from his cigarette.)
My man M: "That's weird. I bet the kids did that when I lived in Dilley. It's the watermelon capital of the world."
Me: "Really?"
My man M: "Yeah. I wonder what I would've done if I had stayed in Dilley. I probably wouldn't be in advertising. I would've probably picked watermelons..."
Me: "Over women?"
I'm glad he didn't stay in Dilley -- not that there's anything wrong with it.
Oh, and by the way, yes...we're moving to Dallas.
posted by deconstructionist at 5:05 PM
4 Comments:
i miss bob's stories. are you serious about dallas?
Sorry, Rye. Attention blogosphere: whilst in Browntown I encountered a dear friend. It made me happy. He's watching me, so don't make any sudden movements. [help].
Yeah, Ltflux, I'm afraid we're serious about moving. We need to talk. Call me.
Why am I sad that you might be moving to Dallas? I never see you anyways, but I'm finding myself thinking, "aw, that sucks - now they'll be farther away!" I'm silly. This I know...
Aw, Sabrina! That's sweet of you! It's funny because somehow I think that being in Dallas will make me go to Austin more. Now THAT's just silly. But I do love Austin...
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