I'm losing my edge
during this christmas card getting season, katie thought it was an appropriate time to mention how my dad signs cards. Mainly, this is an issue with how he uses quotation marks.
Usually, I'll get a card that is signed:
"Love,"
Dad
(the quotes are his. I swear.)
Is this some sort of pseudo-love? Some "society deems I must write this" love? What the shit? I can just envision him saying it and making air quotes as he does so.
Occasionally, he'll sign it:
Love,
"Dad"
What the hell??? Am I to believe he's not my real father? Who's my REAL FATHER, dammit!! (I am mentally shaking him by his crisp, engineer oxford shirt)
Truthfully, he's just awkward and I just find it funny. It's only partially his fault, the emotional infantilism. (I'm often not so different.) But it doesn't end there. When I still had a land line, he would refuse to call me on my cell phone. "Costs you minutes," he'd say. "And you never answer your home phone. Why don't you get an answering machine?"
"My answering machine broke and I have a cell phone now."
"Hmm....that'd cost you minutes. I can never get a hold of you. I think you're dead sometimes."
"CALL MY CELL."
Shortly thereafter was my birthday. I received a generic package in the mail that year--brown cardboard box, but I could tell my the all caps printing of my address that it was from him. I open the box....it was a new phone/answering machine combo. No birthday card, no notice that it was from him. Just the phone.
I killed my landline about two months later.
Usually, I'll get a card that is signed:
"Love,"
Dad
(the quotes are his. I swear.)
Is this some sort of pseudo-love? Some "society deems I must write this" love? What the shit? I can just envision him saying it and making air quotes as he does so.
Occasionally, he'll sign it:
Love,
"Dad"
What the hell??? Am I to believe he's not my real father? Who's my REAL FATHER, dammit!! (I am mentally shaking him by his crisp, engineer oxford shirt)
Truthfully, he's just awkward and I just find it funny. It's only partially his fault, the emotional infantilism. (I'm often not so different.) But it doesn't end there. When I still had a land line, he would refuse to call me on my cell phone. "Costs you minutes," he'd say. "And you never answer your home phone. Why don't you get an answering machine?"
"My answering machine broke and I have a cell phone now."
"Hmm....that'd cost you minutes. I can never get a hold of you. I think you're dead sometimes."
"CALL MY CELL."
Shortly thereafter was my birthday. I received a generic package in the mail that year--brown cardboard box, but I could tell my the all caps printing of my address that it was from him. I open the box....it was a new phone/answering machine combo. No birthday card, no notice that it was from him. Just the phone.
I killed my landline about two months later.
random bits cobbled together by j-dub
4 Comments:
I had a friend in college whose father signed her cards 'Love, Dan'. When I asked her about it, she said, "Well, I call him Dad, but he doesn't really think of himself that way. He thinks of himself as Dan, the person who existed even before I was born."
That was just the most asinine thing I'd ever heard, but then she went on.
"He didn't used to sign them 'Love' but, a few years ago, I sat down with both my parents and requested that they use that word more often in their interactions with me."
When I asked what he used to say, she said, "Sincerely."
So, for 20 years, she got cards that read...
Happy Birthday, Sarah
Sincerely,
Dan
damn--I feel so much more loved now.
God, I'm afraid of what my daughters will write about my social ineptness. Because I'm full of it.
"J. William", I "found" a "blog" I thought you'd "appreciate".
xo
h.
http://quotation-marks.blogspot.com/
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