Grudge Papa

Check out the geezer!

Yep. That's my dad. Heh.

He's is now retired from his engineering career, so he's able to freely indulge in what has always been his passion: flying. He's a private flight instructor, on little planes like Cessnas. He also got sea-plane rated in Alaska a few years ago. Ever since he retired he's been trying to get in with this geezer pilot club, called the "Quiet Birdmen," and they finally decided to vote him in. I was sort of worried about it for him, because he's rather... introverted. And a little weird.

But he's in!

Look how excited he is! Isn't he cute?!

He doesn't go around like Snoopy-a-la-Red-Baron all the time, just when he's playing with his new friends.

And, just so you know, my brother's old color-block shirt from the late 80s isn't part of the official club costume. When they swear my dad in, in December, he has to be wearing HEAD-TO-TOE RED LONG UNDERWEAR with his antique pilot cap, goggles, and white scarf. Oh yes. I would pay good money to see that. Especially if they, like, added flippers and/or boxing gloves to the mix. Hee!

Really, though, my dad has never been the type to... socialize, let's say. He doesn't really... have friends. So it's quite heartening to see that in his swinging soon-to-be-sixties, he's suddenly a frat boy.

Party on, Floyd!

Not that he reads this blog, or is even allowed to know of its existence, because at some point I might want to mention the... strained... relationship between me and my dad when I was in high school, that culminated in my running away from home for 2 weeks. To St. Paul, Minnesota. Where I holed up at Macalester College with a friend from Naperville. Just a hair shy of after-school special.

But things are better now. He's a way better grandfather than he was a dad. He used to be really old school. You know, uninvolved and emotionally removed and newspaper-reading. But he's loosened up. And he's always had this little cool streak to him. So we're good.

Dad/daughter relationships are so complicated. So FRAUGHT. I'm happy we survived it intact.

So I say to the ionosphere, "Yay Floyd!" Fly up up into the sky, loony old geezer. Have some fun for a change.