Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Isn’t the Dad supposed to call the kid an idiot?
Why, in my family does the kid call the dad an idiot?
I guess it’s because I am good at sharing a litany of stuff that is,welllll, incredibly stupid.
And the latest example just reaffirms what Mike has known for years-his Dad is an incredible idiot.
The story unfolds at my beloved YMCA, where I faithfully transport my large bod twice a day. As I work out, I pump high volume music from my phone to my headphones-at a level that makes me unaware of the outside world.
Here’s where the problem begins- I sing to the music….loud….to the point where others can hear me. Because I have headphones on, I am unaware of how loud I am.
So I am walking the track, and people are smiling at me in a smirky kind of way. At first, I am not understanding WHY people are smiling.
Then a YMCA staffer walks up to me and says, “Nice voice.” And I immediately realize the problem. And I am embarrassed. Very embarrassed.
But it gets worse.
The song I am singing along to is “Casey Jones” by The Greatful Dead.
‘Drivin’ that train
High on cocaine’
Oh man…soooo .cringeworthy
I put away my headphones and slink quietly out of the gym.
The really dumb part? It happened again. Fortunately, not the same song.
So I wind up sharing this story with my son. And he sends a low IQ missile to my solar plexus. This is the latest missile of many. Fortunately, his missiles are shielded with laughter, so that eases the blow.
And for me, getting a laugh is worth just about anything. I will take the abuse, the beatings, I will take it all in return for a hearty chuckle. Can’t help it, that’s the way I am. And this especially goes for my son.
So if you see a large, bearded, elderly man approaching you, singing at the top of his lungs, don’t run in fear.
It’s just an everyday idiot exercising his right to be a fool .