This post was supposed to be ALL about Veteran’s Day, but it got a little silly.(Like always.)(Sigh.)

This is my dad, Robert.

(Handsome, no?)

You may call him “Bob” if you are either a friendly or one of his children.

(My mother’s name is LaRee.)

(You may call her “Larry”, if, and only if, you are my eldest brother, Rhett.)

(My mother nicknamed Rhett, “Ski”, so I figure that it’s sort of justified payback, you know?)

(Poor Rhett. He isn’t even a pair of skis, just a sad, solitary single “ski” that smacks of some poor, unskilled and defeated schmuck losing one of his skis on the ski lift.)

(Rhett’s nickname for me is “Whiner Number One” (“Whiner” for short) so don’t feel TOO sorry for him, y’all.)

(We won’t even go INTO what my sister, Linny, nicknamed me.)

(“PEE”.)

(No short, just…”PEE”)

(ACK! I TOLD YOU! NOW I HAVE TO CARRY MY SHAME WITH ME!!!)

(Although, I did nickname my brother “Bradley Brown Burrito Socks”)

(And I might have gone through a phase of a solid 2-years where I called my twin sister “Pizza Hut”.)

(So, ya know…don’t feel too sorry for me, either.)

(You know, sometimes it takes me actually seeing things like this in black and white to realize JUST HOW FREAKING WEIRDTASTIC MY FAMILY IS.)

(I had to come from somewhere, right?)

(Right.)

(Sigh.)

Where was I?

Oh, yes..this is my dad, Robert.

See a resemblance to anyone you know?

(I am so torn on this.)

(Because you realize if you say “Yes”, while going ‘yay’ for family resemblance, it might totally reinforce the suspicion that I would probably make a better looking dude than a girl.)

(Although, I suppose this trait has helped in my theater/opera experiences.)

(I’ve played quite a few men on stage.)

(And, really, it’s probably a good thing Jonathan and I don’t have any girls, as with our genetics combined she’d have to repeatedly tell telemarketers that she wasn’t her father and I’d probably have to help her wax her back before homecoming .)

(Not that I am against the fluffy and furry people amongst us, I’m not.)

(Which would be ironic as I was accused of being “anti-bald people’ just last week.)

(I’m doing it again, aren’t I?)

(Sorry!)

Ehem…

THIS IS MY DAD, ROBERT. (Deja vu, anyone?)

And today is Veteran’s Day.

And as you can tell from the studly Navy uniform, my father is a Veteran.

He is also the author of a stream of emails to me that I am ever increasingly convinced I should publish online. When one gets emails from ones father that document his desire, at times, to have a lot full of “Charlie Brown Christmas Trees” due to the “grave inner conflict” he feels about having trees in his yard as they create piles of leaves in the Autumn, and begins, “What a quandary!” then continues to include paragraphs like this:

“Understand, I don’t dislike trees. Admittedly, they are a boon to the real estate market when “mature trees” are a definite asset.  They shroud around the home as deterrents to heat stroke. And they do help contain the electric bill in summer. Those are definite pluses.

And yet, I am not a tree-hugger, either.”

SEE? I am sure if they HAD emoticons back when he was early in his journalism/editor career he would have TOTALLY used emoticons, too. (I like to think he’s easy on the caps key because it was just too much work on those old uprights.)

:)

My father served in the Navy from 1951 until 1955.

HE VOLUNTEERED FOR THE NAVY DURING THE KOREAN WAR WHEN HE WAS SEVENTEEN-YEARS-OLD.

Did you catch those key words?

VOLUNTEERED.

WAR.

SEVENTEEN.

That?

Is just damn impressive, people.

My dad’s Navy stories are the best.

Although some of them were not so best-like.

Like how he was scrubbing black boot marks off the white bed rails at boot camp and trying not to cry while they played, ‘I’ll be home for Christmas’.

Or, like how he worked out for a million hours on board the ship (between long shifts of back breaking work) and yet never gained a lot of muscle. (I KNEW my toothpick calves came from somewhere!)

Or, like the 1950′s military version of sex-ed. (Which seems to mainly consist of the ONE guy in the world you would NOT want to have talk about ANYTHING to do with the topic proceeding to tell so many horror stories and showing so many graphic educational films about VD that I’m surprised anyone even THOUGHT about doing anything with their manly bits on shore leave for fear of it shriveling up, falling off, turning into mythical pixie dust and being scattered by the south seas winds.) (At least that is totally how it seems to me, but who knows? Maybe the Navy version of “uphills both ways and barefoot in the snow” is all about how many VD movies they were forced to watch in bootcamp.)

The Navy was tough but my dad stuck it (and being stationed at Guam) out.

And I have endless admiration for him for doing that.

Lots of love, Pa.

Ya done good.

##

I know this post has been a bit silly and today is a very serious, meaningful day. I usually write very meaningful posts on Veteran’s and Memorial Day, and planned on writing all sorts of awesome things about my dad, but I this is what came out when I sat down to write. The day strikes a bit close to home this year and humor is how I cope.

On a serious note–I have lots of loved ones, friends and family that are, or have been, military. Many mean the world to me and I personally feel a huge debt to everyone who has sacrificed and served on behalf of our nation.

Thank you from the bottom of my silly, rambling, heart.

xo,

Loralee