Photo Friday

The Dad

Athens, GA

August 2007

This captures what my daddy looks like 70% of the day. On the phone telling people how it is. Just to clarify, the smile is not normally that pronounced.

Love him,

BEAT

The Dad

If you happened to review the comments from my last post, my father was not too happy that I called him grumpy. Or insinuated that I get my grumpy demeanor from him. Let's be honest. I do. Bless his heart. And bless mine. And Lord knows I don't like to admit it, but I am my father's child. As is my brother. For some reason the dad cannot (for the life of him) see the connections. I am grumpy, impatience, and straight talking. These happen to be some of the most endearing qualities of the dad. Now, let's not tell him. I have prided myself on keeping this a secret from him. (Our similarities and such.) I like to keep him guessing. And oh-the-joy when he describes us as opposites.

These qualities, the ones that I believe should restrict him from talking on the phone*, they are the visible and in front of your face qualities. They do not completely, nor accurately describe my daddy. (Yes, I said daddy.) Out of the four of us, he has the big heart that gives love and shares compassion. I could make a list. It would be kinda long. But the dad knows a thing or two about taking care of his neighbor. He physically aches when his business is slow because it decreases his opportunity to provide jobs, money, and food for his employees. Those he feels responsible for and accountable to. He's a big softy. He is.

So, I'm grumpy. And I get it from the dad. But I hope there is more. I hope there is more of him in me. I hope I am more...loving, compassionate, thoughtful...and...well, brash and ballsy. The dad is a complex mixture. Yeah, I hope I am a complex mixture.

But don't tell him. I have to keep him on his toes. You know, because we never see eye-to-eye.

Grumpy and lovable,

BEAT

*My daddy should never be allowed to answer the phone. Nor leave messages. It usually goes something like this. Ring. Ring. Ring. The dad: "Hello." (In your briefest, sharpest, most unpleasant tone.) Me: "Hey, daddy doodles." The dad: Audible huff. Puff. "Yeah..." Or ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail picks up. The dad: "Blair. It is 5:15. 15 after 5....(message)...(repeat message)...it is 5:16...(repeat message for the third time)" He's going to be upset I included his commentary on this phone etiquette. I do love him. I do.

Photo Friday

The Dad, BEAT, and the Mom

Nashville, TN

October 2007

UGA beat Vandy! Go dawgs! And the parents made me hold up a hometown newspaper. This picture was later featured in said hometown newspaper. I have proud, supportive parents. This picture fully captures the personalities and essence of the parents. Do you see where I get the grumpy? Can you sense the joy for life? The nose? The height? The matching color scheme? I have inherited so much from both of them.

How cute are my parents? Lovely. Lucky. And blessed. I can't get over it.

Go dawgs! Beat Vandy.

BEAT

ps: UGA doesn't play Vandy for a couple weeks. I am just preparing.

House Warming Gift

My parents gave me a "door security bar" as my house warming gift two years ago. Let's be honest (mom and dad stop reading and pick up a sentence or two down), I used it the first few weeks. I did. Then I got out of habit. No longer part of my nightly routine. A situation recently happened that made me feel not so safe in my own space. Don't freak out. No one broke in. There was not a murder. I had a hostile confrontation with a maintenance worker in my apartment. We'll just say he thinks it is wrong for women to be pastors, speak in church, or even work outside the home. The "conversation" included some other fine exchanges about the bible and tree huggers.

Uneasy. That has been my mood the last few days.

I reported the actions and behavior of the man. I found out later that my complaint resulted in him being terminated from his job. Once again, I'll be honest. This made me feel guilty. This economy sucks, and now I've caused another person to be a statistic. I know, I know. His own words and deeds caused his unemployment, but I can't help feeling (a little) responsible.

Still uneasy.

I will get past the thoughts and memories on replay of him in my home (my private space) talking down to me and gesturing aggressively. I will. So, I am thankful for the kick-in bar. Provides a little extra measure of safety as I...get back to normal?

Thanks mom and dad for one awesome house warming gift. If you have friends that live alone, I highly recommend it. Only $35. And it provides some peace of mind.

Uneasy, but on the mend. Promise.

BEAT

ps: This post has inspired a new label, "crazy people." I'm meeting more and more these days.

I decided...

When I hear this song, I think of my father.  This was the kind of music he loved way back in the day.  Well, he still adores it.   It puts a smile on my face.  See, this is music you can really dance to. Enjoy! I hope you tab your toes, swing your hips, and snap your fingers. 

Solange-"I Decided"

(Part 1 & 2)