“Remember the Alamo. Never shake hands with a rattlesnake. You know my love is with you today, yesterday, day before yesterday and within 24 hours of tomorrow. However, my love can only extend 72 hours beyond infinity. Okay, so take it for granted. You got it, kid?” These are some of my favorite quotes from my daddee-o. The revered Monsieur Longfizzle or Dr. Jackovich Langhorn if you will.
Today is Valentines Day. A typical American holiday that celebrates love or coupledom. When I think of love, I think of my dad’s actions growing up, from the time when I was a tiny sparrow of girl to now the full bloom of adulthood. My childhood was truly hunky-dory-dandy. It was satisfying to the max like a glass of ice water during the hot-dog-days-of-summer. I remember my first day of school. My dad and I walked hand in hand to the front door of the school building. My nerves were distracted by his wearing a large fake nose. It stood out from his face like Pinocchio. The whole time I was begging him to take the nose off, but these days I would not trade that memory for anything. I have treasured the numerous JL cards I received over the years, each one bright, creative and original. I recall interviewing him when I was in the sixth grade. I tried to be like Barbara Walters. He was a celebrity and played the role to a tee. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, I could not stop laughing. My whole person shook with laughs as he came up with responses that were beyond anything I could ever imagine. Luckily, this explosive memory was recorded and I still have the cd. At 15, while most kids were babysitting or picking their nose, I travelled to NYC with my father. We embraced the cold weather, the celebrity sightings and the cussing cabdrivers. I recall us navigating the streets of Manhattan while eating Filet-O-Fish sandwiches from McDonalds. The holy grail moment came in Radio City Music Hall, whereupon Annie Lennox’s song “Money Can’t Buy It” rocked every fiber of our being to its rhythmic, lyrical core. We left dazed and dazzled. Music has always been a connect for us. While still a teenager, dad and I would frequent a popular club that pulsed with music and energy on the dance floor. Dad was always the first one out on the floor. I eventually joined in. “Those who hear not the music, think the dancers mad,” was the saying on one of the cards I gave him during our footloose, fancydancy years. I recall how happy I was when my dad got a brand new silver Volkswagon bug. As long as I could remember, he drove that old 74’ VW bug. The color silver was significant because it was my parents 25th wedding anniversary. It was fitting for a person that gave as much as my dad to finally receive such a worthy gift. I recall being moved by my dad’s story of a precocious four year old hospice patient that he was caring for at the time. He went above and beyond the call of duty for this little girl. When asked why he did it, his response was “I just imagined if one of my girls were dying, how would I want them treated.” In an instant, that story reminded me of how much I love my dad. It reminded me of the W. H. Auden poem that goes... “He was my North, my South, my East and West..” He was my school week and Sunday best. Don’t forget pancake and cartoon Saturdays or the many fun runs! He was my laugh and is my joy. His personality was larger and brighter than the moon. I reflect on these memories as his birthday approaches very soon. I thank God for that light you shine on me. Happy 60th!
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