Some of the folks who attended my grandmother's memorial service might recall my Uncle Roger sharing an incredible video of my Grandma, Doris, talking a bit about herself and her life. That night after I heard about Dad I dreamt I was trying to get him, a younger version of himself, maybe in his 30s, to sit still and do the same, just tell me about himself for a short video, but he kept moving and getting distracted by other things as we know hed often do. He was always chasing something, seeking something new and exciting -- discovering a new interest for himself, and deep-diving hard into whatever it was for a spell.
He lived so fast. He loved to party. I left the area for Cleveland, Ohio nearly 15 years ago so a lot of what comes to mind are little distant memories I've always carried around with me.
Growing up when describing my family to friends I'd always say my sister looks more like my mom, and I look more like my dad. When we were kids meeting other kids we just talked about that sort of thing I guess. As I got older, I'd say, my dad looks like me, just "more rugged" ! Everyone who met him or saw his photo commented that he seemed ageless, and I always thought so too for the longest time... not only in appearance but in daily life. His energy at times was unmatched!
He had countless hobbies and interests -- the many sports and "toys", the trucks, the snowmobiles, the latest computer, the inline skating gear, martial arts, home brewing before craft beer was trendy, remember the bread maker? of course, the motorcycles.... had to have it all. He also had these incredible moments of discipline... the furniture making and home renovations, his yoga practice... going back to his childhood hobby of candle making sometime in the mid-90s, little lake and stream fishing trips. I still think of a family trip to the Philadelphia Museum of Art - the permanent Duchamp/Twombly/Brancusi exhibits had a lasting impression on me and remain favorites. Many trips to South Street made me comfortable with city living. He encouraged creativity and general tinkering as all of the engineers in the family enjoyed.
I think we all know music was a major theme in his life -- the louder the better. Again with the gear, the many mix tapes, of course the huge drum set he'd let us play with... I recall him sort of exploring catalogs of different artists... I remember him getting the 5 CD disc player and it was an endless stream of whatever the flavor of the time was. We had eras of Elton John, Albert Collins, Phish, Aerosmith... the country era where he listened to lots of Merle Haggard, Waylon Jennings + David Allen Coe, lately it seemed like big band, but also local bands too... I always think of him when I play his records.... King Crimson, Sabbath, Living Color, Zappa (he had one or two shredded Zappa tees he'd wear around the house for ages until they disintegrated). It's impossible for me to hear "Benny and the Jets" without telling the story (as told by my mom) about a time he sang it at karaoke, won "worst singer of the night", and woke up hearing himself on the local radio station the next morning. Recently in one of his very long text messages he began by asking why no one makes music like the 5th Dimension and Lovin' Spoonful anymore. At some point he picked us up for a visit around the holidays and was blasting and singing along to Christmas music. He would always break into song confidently even if he got the words wrong.
A general constant since our trip to Ireland in the early 90s bestowed upon him the gift of breaking into an Irish brogue at any given moment. You never knew what you were going to get!
Dad loved food and flavor and I attribute my generally adventurous palette to his tastes.... Way back I remember he'd ask if I wanted to go to the "candy store" (I think that meant the gas station) and we'd take a drive up to Wingdale Mountain, where he had lived with his friend Don years earlier. My favorite order for Chinese will always be House Special Lo Mein because of our orders when I was a kid. Celebrating a few of the Jewish holidays we always enjoyed the many foods of Passover the most I think. For years, even after I moved he'd send me Valentine's heart candies... I think once he put the stamps directly on the box and dropped it in the mail. He always had those Necco wafer candies around too. Hot dogs and any pickled condiments... I have many hot dog photos in my phone of these wildly decadent designs he'd create. My mom and sister and I will always remember the dreaded hot dog casserole he once made too! Apple dumplings. Twice baked potatoes. Sriracha hot sauce on everything. Those giant Snyder's hard pretzels. Steak and seafood. Soy milk. The home brewer's clam bake. Cheesesteaks and hoagies. Pickled deviled eggs.
Everyone in my family has played a role in feeding my obsession with the preservation of old things, especially family items and history, and Dad was no exception. I always kept old family photos around and was fascinated by thoughts of what he was like before I met him. I have and continue to cherish bits and pieces of clothing, art, jewelry and objects and I'm thankful to have some of his. I can't describe how much these mean to me as constant reminders of the very special and loving folks that came before me.
He will certainly continue to be remembered in all these little ways. In the last few years I tried harder and harder to figure him out, to understand the many versions of himself that I'd grown to experience. The photos and stories shared by our family and his lifelong friends have been such a special window into those times. Please keep it coming and maybe remember him in some of the ways that I do too!
My sister and I keep repetitively saying he lived a thousand lives, and it's obvious he'd never be pinned to a single label. He did it all his way, loud and fast, singing and joking and spiraling conversations and all. He had a fierce love, even if I didn't hear from him from a weeks or more at a time we'd touch base and he'd say, "alright kid, gimme the rundown" or he'd inevitably pop out of the woodwork with some anecdote or teaching of a historic moment, or a song... I'll be keeping an eye out for those easter eggs to reveal themselves and think of them as his way of dropping by.
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