Wouldn't it be nice if a person could say just the right words on such an occasion? I have come to believe no such words exist, but I want to say something, so here are my few words.
He would be 70. I dislike writing it in the conditional tense, but there we are.
He was a man who liked to be home, which was sometimes frustrating for a woman who liked to go places, but mostly it was a good thing.
That guy who put up the "chicken manure as cure for chapped lips and so on" website stole the idea from Wayne. I mean, really, because Wayne said it decades ago.
He could be a clown or an intelligent contributor to conversation. He could entertain a room with jokes and physical antics, but he could also hold forth on many subjects because he read a lot.
He knew sports statistics, including high school sports.
He sought my approval. That's nice.
He was not a natural born hugger.
He was a natural born cornball, quipster, and word manipulator. I like that about him. Here's a story to the point.
Once, many years ago, when we were in the check-out line at the Caldwell Albertsons, we saw a small display of books for parents to read to their children. The featured book was about how children come into existence, and its title was, You Were Once A Dot. Wayne said, "Yes, but Anwar Sadat right now."
Top that.
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1 comment:
100% awesome--that Sadat story. NO kidding--TOP THAT!
I love my dad.
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