It's Father's Day, but I'm not with my dad today. I'm at my mental health facility, AKA funny farm, loony bin, or whatever the nom du jour. I called my dad. He told me he'd skype with me just before bedtime.
Chairman Mao invited me to spend the day with his family, but I politely declined. This is a day for him to spend with his own offspring, and patients, however well-accquainted he may be with their parents he may be, do not belong at his home on Father's Day. Furthermore, it could cause my fellow inmates to resent me if I'm invited to The Chairman's house for anything resembling a special day. Even though I won't be here all that much longer, as i'll be moving out around the first of July and will see therapists or The chairman three times a week, i wish to remain on good terms with those who live around me right now.
We celebrated by demanding ice cream with multiplie toppings. We didn't actually "demand" it. We said that we need it and will get it one way or another. I'm capable of going out the recreational rapists's old office window and jumping to the balcony if necessary. i only mention that method of escape because the staff are already aware of it because I've successfully used it before. Suffice it to say there are many ways out of here. The ice cream and toppings were produced upon request. We were appropriately appreciative.
The others had a portrait drawing or painting contest of their fathers. I declined to compete because i can barely print, much less draw, but I did offer to help with the judging. it was a tough call, because one of the portratis looked really good, but it looked absolutely nothing like the girl's father, who has been here. Either she's not as good an artist as we think and lucked out on painting a from that looked human, or she is in on a secret her mom has been keeping from her dad for about seventeen years. Either way, since the other "portraits" looked like "Chalk Zone" drawings or Yoda, we awarded her the grand prize more or less by default.
We discussed the atupidest things our fathers had ever done. One guy said his dad got their entire family locked inside the Minnesota State Capitol back when Jesse "The Body" Ventura was governor. Some staff member told his dad that if the family just stood there and waited long enough, Jesse "The Body" would show up to greet them. He told them not to leave no matter what anyone said. Announcements kept coming up over the loudspeaker that the state captol would be closing in X number of minutes, but my friend's dad insisted that they stay put. Finally the builing was locked , and it took the family almost four hours to get out. they could have created havoc in a big way inside that building if they'd beedn so inclined.
I wasn't sure which of my father's actions would be considered the very stupidest, so I shared three. The first was when my parents sent me to stay with the incompetent relatives who kept me in their attic and made me use Pampers because I couldn't get myself to the bathroom from the attic because of multiple broken bones. All sorts of other bad things happened during my aunt's and uncle's stint at caring for me, which resulted in my being airlifted from one hospital to anotyher and the aunt and uncle losing custody of their kids, some of which they have yet to regain. My dad's second act of stupidity was to allow my Uncle Mahonri, who is known for being unable to steer a grocery cart, much less a car, to drive his two-week-old Lexus. He would've driven it into a canal iof my brother hadn't grabbed the steering wheel at a strategic moment. my dad's third act of stupidity was to serve a two-year mission in Argentina, paying for it with his own paper route savings, for a religion he didn't even believe in. The others thought that sending me with the idiot aunt and uncle was the worst, but the mission was probably the stupidest.
I probably should take this opportunity to thank a few men in my life besides my father who've been significant. My godfather, Uncle Ralph, though an uncle by marriage and not by blood, has been most generous throughout my life, and has uaully thought everything I did was either great or hilarious. I could never do anything really wrong as far as Uncle ralph was concerned.
I met my Uncle Steve when he came home from his mission around me second birthday. He left the family church shortly thereafter and ended up with my own nuclear family a lot. he lived with us for a few years, and now lives near us. He's moving to a place not too far from where my university will be. He's often been available when my own parents weren't, and, in addition to being my uncle, is also my pediatrician.He's saved my life literally more than once.
Chairman Mao has lately been a factor in my life recently. He was a friend of my dad's from medical school. he lloks a lot like my dad except he has brown eyes while my dad's are blue. They apparently looked even more alike in med school, but my dad has made some sort of deal with Satan that has allowed him not to age. Chairman Mao has taken my side in numerous conflicts with incompetent or uncaring staff since I've ben here. He's helped me keep in condition for diving and track seasons. I probably would not have placed as highly as I did in recent competitions were it not for his having gone out of his way to give me opportunities to train.
My Uncle Jerry, is neither a biological relative nor one by marriage. He's my dad's very best friend. They met when my dad was twelve and moved to Florida from Massachusetts. My dad spent time at Uncle Jerry's family's house to escape the craziness of his own home. Uncle Jerry, an obstetrician, was there for my birth. My dad delivered me and Uncle Jerry
delivered my brother. When I came home from the hospital at about eight weeks of age, Uncle Jerry's wife, who is an R. N., flew from Florida with one of her children, leaving the other three in the care of relatives and their father, to teach my mom how to take care of me. When I was six, I became very sick due largely to infections that set in because I was malnourished when a relative of a relative, who was paid to care for my brother and me, didn't pay any attention to what or if we ate. My mom was fighting leukemia and was hospitalized, and my dad needed to be with her. My Uncle Steve was in medical school and couldn't spend much time caring for me. my dad knew the one other person he could trust to keep me alive was Uncle Jerry. My Uncle Jerry flew across the country to get me. between Uncle Jerry and his wife, Aunt ilianna, I received what amounted to hospital care in their home. Every four weeks or so, my Aunt Ilianna flew to Los angeles with me so that I could see my mother. They went to great trouble and expense to make me healthy again. I was with them for almost seven months.
My Pseudouncle Scott is twenty-seven, which is young for a father, but he is like a father to me. I spent three summers with him and his wife when summer camp didn't work out. Last summer was a disaster because I was recovering from multiple broken bones and developed a really rampant infection under my cast at about the time I arrived at his home. If I'd been at summer camp and not with Pseudouncle Scott, I probably would've lost my leg. He and his wife have been here for me when I needed them throughout my stay in the loony bin. I've been to their home a couple of times since my incarceration began,and they've been here to visit me. I'm going to stay with them for about two months starting July 1.
To all the men who are fathers, and to those who act as fathers when they're not tecnically such, and even to mothers who must functiona as both mothers and fathers, Happy Father's Day.