Hell of a Guy

Things my Father said…


A little while ago I was busily preparing my gourmet lunch of a vegetable concoction that might be described by some as a wannabee soup.  The Nancy and I are on an 11-day diet, you see, aptly called “Fat Loss for Idiots.”  The website is http://www.fatloss4idiots11.com shoul,d you wish to check it out.  This is a program we have done before, and I think this is chapter number six of this novel entitled “Get off Your Fat Ass and Lose It.”  Suffice it to say it works, at least it has worked for us. 

Anyway, I was putting some this epicurean delight in a bowl, and as luck would have it, being as totally uncoordinated as I am, I slopped some of the slop outside the bowl on the counter top.  Almost immediately without thinking I uttered the phrase, “You rascal, you.”

It was a phrase that often came out of my dad’s mouth when he was having difficulty with something he was trying do and not having much luck with it.  It was a “dad-ism,” just one of many that came into my limited mind and brought up fond memories from my childhood.

I remember as a kid watching my dad work on a project and would often ask him what he was doing.  His instantaneous reply 99 out of 100 times was “Building a layover to catch meddlers.”  A what?  I was always puzzled by the phrase, but knew not to ask what a layover might be.  I was much older, please note I am not a quick study, when I finally understood there wasn’t any such contraption, and dad was being dad and yanking my chain.  Da!

Rarely, and I mean very, very rarely, did I ever hear my dad use bad language.  It was just not part of his regular vernacular.  I think I heard him say “shit” one time, I don’t recall the occasion, but it surely had to have been something that happened of an egregious nature.  And I know he said “hell” one or two times and not as noun.  Profanity was simply not his style.

One of his favorites, when things didn’t go his way was “consarnit!”  That was the bad one.  When dad said consarnit it was time for we little people in the house to become invisible, and most certainly not the time to ask what was wrong.  Generally speaking old dad was a pretty even tempered man.  I only saw him upset a couple of times and it was not a pleasant experience, especially the time I was the agent of his angst.  He did not have a quick temper, but one definitely existed under his gentle exterior.

I am more than certain my father was not the originator of these dad-isms.  As much as I loved him and respected him, I know he was more of an emulator than innovator.  These were all most likely handed down in his family from generation to generation, and it continues even to this day.  My daughters grew up hearing this same stuff.  It just proves with all this ever changing technology of today that some things never change – “if it ain’t broke” and so on.

And that is all I have to say about that…

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