When my Dad clued into the fact that I’ve been traveling to Vegas a couple times per year, he made an insta-call with the conclusion that I was on the road to ruin.
I thought my last conversation with him on the matter assured him that I was well in control. I’d explained how I’ve never touched household or 8-5 paycheck funds and that I fund my passtime through moonlighting and other means (he would not have grasped at all the concept of blogging and earning income via advertising, so I just left that as “other means”).
This evening after arriving home from work, I opened what I thought was a rare letter from dear Dad. When I unfolded the envelope’s contents, it was immediately clear that, as these things usually go with parents and children, I’d utterly failed at setting his mind at ease.
That torn newspaper page was all that was in the envelope.
I set it on the counter and did the only thing that seemed appropriate. I changed clothes, hopped in the car and drove out to the Riverwind to play in the 7 pm tourney.
Now this wasn’t as blatant a daughter’s rebellious defiance as you might be thinking. I’d previously planned to attempt the tourney this evening. The missive from my Dad, my Dear ever-worrying 90 year old Dad, was purely coincidental.
So for you youngers out there who are wondering when your parents will ever get off your back and let you be an adult… I got news for you – it will never happen.
Never.
Incidentally, while waiting for the tourney to start, I felted a guy at the 1.2 NL table when my trip aces squashed his trip treys like a juicy bug. As for the tourney… I lasted approximately 25 minutes.
That help line has The Hammer in it.
why, yes it does. priceless.
My dad is a stout "non-gambler" (yet gathers the entire family for Hold ‘Em tourneys monthly), mom is the proto-typical "slot machine queen in Vegas, complete with flashy coin purse".
Dad to Drizz: "Mom seems to lose a lot of money on slots, could you teach her how to play poker?"
Too bad she gets intimidated sitting at a $2 blackjack table or I would.
LOL!! Now, that is funny. I can’t stop laughing!
Parents, you gotta love `em. At age 34 I brought Peggy – my then new bride – to a visit to my parents in Florida, who met us at the airport even though I had said I was renting a car.
"What are you doing here, Dad?" I asked.
"Why do you need to spend money a rental?" he asked. "You can borrow mine if you want to go somewhere."
Since they only had the one car, I hadn’t wanted to inconvenience him, but figured, what-the-hey. For the remainder of the five day trip, if I said, "Dad, I’m taking the car," his response was, "Wait a second, I’ll drive you."
And he did.
I miss him a lot. Even far away and in assisted living, cherish him while you can, M.
Oh, I do cherish him, Fred, he’s one-of-a-kind.