Lets Dance
My father and stepmother, also 92 years old, were planning to celebrate his birthday today by doing what few people in their 90s do.
They were going to a dance to mark the 60th wedding anniversary of longtime friends. Pop is a marathon competitor compared to the husband who is confined to a wheelchair, shorn of most of his sight and much of his hearing.
Careful with Promises
A tower of rectitude, Pop said this morning he did not want to promise he would do a turn on the dance floor unless he were sure, and he was not.
I might throw away my cane for one dance, but otherwise we will be doing a lot of sitting, he said. I would like to say I feel 21. I dont.
I am not the person I was five years ago, not even three years ago, said the man who taught the seven of us never to exaggerate, even by one degree, even for fun.
A gentle man of immense modesty, a man of the blue-collar crowd, he has fairly dashed to this plateau by not overtly taking life too seriously. Known by his half or three-quarters grin, he loves to refer to himself with mock reference as Mr. Noonan of Downing Street.
He loves being 92 years old, even though it only has been a few hours.
Unlike our friend Syd Kronenthal, who discourages age-talk, Pop started looking forward to attaining 92 the same day he turned 91, which he began aiming for the first day he was 90 years old, which he talked about achieving for years.
His mind is clear, but his pace has severely slowed. My stepmother scolds him for not using his cane or walker every trip.
Rules Without Exceptions
Literalness has lighted the lengthy path of my fathers life.
Never did not mean once in awhile. Brutal honesty, a dogmatic value from his mother, prohibited him from caving to subtlety.
To my late mothers occasional embarrassment and even consternation, my father practiced a no-exception policy to his commitment to honesty.
Honesty vs. Criticism
Born without guile and incapable of being hurtful, he nevertheless has prized candor.
If he thought someone were below average in attractiveness, uselessly longwinded or inappropriately attired, he was blunt to a sharp point.
A scrupulously honest man, I have told you before that Pop would drive 20 miles to return a dime, if he feared he had been overpaid.
Eschewing Demonstrations
In the years he was raising his family on a modest, blue-collar income, he never would spend 5 cents at work without Moms prior knowledge and assent.
By example rather than rhetoric, Pop taught his children to live by these bedrock principles, and doesnt that define the classic role of a father?
Without ever articulating his displeasure, Pop has loathed demonstrative behavior whether it is love or its antithesis.
A Strict Constructionist
His first value after honesty is to never speak illy of anyone especially a relative but also friends, even people he does not know.
Likewise, Pop never has brooked persons who criticize others or who gossip.
I had issues with my grandfather. But none of those critical observations ever reached Pops ears. I learned to heed the wise warnings of my mother.
Related to a Democrat
As he would judge of me, my father has not lived a perfect life.
The proof: his lifelong membership in the Democratic Party, a sanctuary for highly emotional persons who stutter and fail in their personal lives.
I needle him about the prominent Democratic racists, the rampant dishonesty, their hatred for America, their generally unserious nature, their chronic depression and the surfeit of vulgar personalities.
Politics is less serious to Pop. So he chuckles.
Scary Close Calls
Pop has been driving for close to 80 years and let the record show, as an objective witness, that 80 years is not all he has come close to. He refuses to surrender his license. To his jeopardy, he even ventures out of town.
A compelling reason for leaving home five minutes before my schooldays ended was that Pop was driving, and there really wasnt room for both of us to be driving on the streets of the same community.
Two Sides of the Steering Wheel
Since this is the weekend of the Indianapolis 500, it is fitting to note that my equally independent stepmother might have competed there had she grown up in more liberated times.
A connoisseur of roadway landscapes Pop, conversely, still takes pride in his two Highway Patrol citations for driving well south of the speed limit.
