RaisingDad

When you get to Heaven, the very first thing they do is give you a box with everything you've ever lost on Earth.      Needless to say, most of it will be filled with single socks missing their partners, which will still be on Earth.      In Revelation, the apostle John talks about being transported to Heaven, and he describes his visit there. Streets... paved with gold . Meetings... with Jesus! Who turns out to look like a black man with fiery eyes.      I bet you're regretting all those BANG! "Stop or I'll shoot!" situations you found yourself in when you were still in law enforcement.      The only down side I could find about Heaven in the Bible was God's promise that He would build a mansion for you when you get there, so you'll be having to deal with Heavenly contractors and having to get this permit and that permit from Heavenly bureaucrats. Construction workers who won't show u...

Well, big brother, the way I heard the story about our live-in maid’s boyfriend making midnight visits to secretly see her when we were kids was that Dad found a Glory Hole in the window screen. Apparently, the boyfriend didn’t even bother to sneak into the house through the bedroom window. He just put his little Oscar Meyer through the hole.      When Dad told Mom about it, she started to cry, and lamented, “I can’t believe our maid would do this to us!”      “OUR MAID?” Dad roared. “The hole was in OUR OLDEST SON’s window!”     Raising My Father RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com JimDuchene.BlogSpot.com  American Chimpanzee @JimDuchene  

Maybe you put your red Vans on the wrong feet, and all those people who were complimenting you on them were actually telling you to look down.      "Poor man. Let's just smile and wave at him as he walks away, Mildred."      My buddy Maloney is a year older than I am, and just yesterday he told me a story about an older woman. This is when he was twenty, and he went to a party. At the party, he said a forty-year-old woman came up to him and started flirting. It ended up with the two of them having sex. Now remember, he's twenty, so he tells me, "Her body was soft, with no muscle tone. I was grossed out." Grossed out, but he didn't say no. "But at my age now," he confessed, "a forty-year-old wouldn't be that bad."      I told him, "Forty isn't as firm as twenty, but it's a lot firmer than sixty."      I told him that because the woman he's dating now is sixty.      The...

Yes, it’s hot here.      Very hot.      That’s why I tell our local homeless they should relocate to California. "The weather is temperate year-round, the liberal government is friendly to your plight, the mayor of Los Angeles says he thinks about you 100% of the time, and there’s money for everyone—as long as you’re homeless and/or in this country illegally." I tell them, “Nancy Pelosi lives in a nice neighborhood, I suggest you set up camp there.”      If I was in a position of authority here, I would go even further. I would give each homeless person here a hundred bucks and a bus ticket to California to get them the heck out. I’d also give them a new (new to them) coat, because I’ve heard it gets cold in the northern part of your state. Stuffed into one pocket of that coat would be the address of Nancy Pelosi and the Los Angeles mayor.      Everybody wins!      Those are going to be some big do...

That possible twin sister of your ex-wife, the one I told you about who works where I work and looks as if her better days were spent on meth, I only see her from a distance.    The one time I talked to her, she took twenty minutes to tell me nothing. All she did was complain about her ex this and her ex that. I don’t even know her, and she was telling me the dirty laundry of her life.    I’m sure she was pretty hot in her youth, though, because she’s got these huge boobs. They arrive anywhere she's going ten minutes ahead of her. Still, that was then and this is now. Nowadays, when she takes off her bra, I'm sure her nipples point to her toes. I saw her fall face-forward to the ground one time, and her knockers looked like two asteroids hurtling toward the earth.    That’s not true, but I thought it was a pretty good joke.    Still, I shouldn’t joke about her that way. She’s nice enough. Unless you’re her ex. Or her current...

I remember our beloved mother telling me once, when I was dropping off gourmet enchiladas for her lunch, “I had a horrible dream last night?”      “You did, Mom?”      “I did.”      “What was it about?” I asked her, as she took a healthy bite out of her delectable Mexican food.      “Well,” she said, chomp-chomping. “I dreamt that your brother Henry was coming down for Mother’s Day.      “He was,” I told her, “but couldn’t at the last minute. He had to trim his toenails.”      “I KNEW IT!” she said. “I KNEW there was a disturbance in The Force.”      Who knew Mom was a Star Wars fan?      Later that night, at the graduation party our cousin was throwing for her daughter, I told her two sisters that you were almost in town and almost came with me to the party. They were happy to hear that.      “Who?” they ...

Adults have never understood kids and kids have never understood adults, but it’s a different kind of generation gap we live with today.     What am I saying?      I’m saying that I like to shop at used book stores. I love books, but I’m not particularly fond of paying full price for them.    One of my favorite used book stores is affiliated with the city’s libraries, so I get a good deal and the money goes to a good cause. It’s run by some very sweet elderly ladies who, if you were looking for the typical stereotype of a librarian, would fill the bill nicely.    I was standing at the science fiction section hoping to find either a collection of Fredric Brown’s short stories or Jeff Rice’s novel The Night Stalker , which Darren McGavin’s classic TV-movie and eventual series was based on, and, in an interesting side note, was the inspiration for Chris Carter’s The X-Files , starring David Duchovny and the hauntingly beautiful Gillian ...

My father's favorite sport is baseball.      I don't know why. Maybe it's because he comes from a time when there was nothing else to do. Back when he was growing up, it didn't matter that a baseball game could last all afternoon. What else were you going to do? Cut an apple in half and watch it turn brown?     My lovely wife tries to make it as enjoyable as she can for him. She fluffs his pillow. Makes him snacks. She even sits him down and turns the TV on for him. The only problem is, he won't stay sitting down. He gets up and goes to his room constantly.     When he does, after ten or fifteen minutes, we'll change the channel, but my father must have some kind of radar, because that's exactly the time he’ll come back. He'll walk into the family room, stand on one side of the TV, look at it, at us, at it, at us, and ask no one in particular, "Is the game over?"     He knows the game isn't over. I have a sneaki...

I didn't get the pictures you texted me.     When you DO text them again, don’t go pulling an Anthony Weiner on me. That might fly with the old ladies on Facebook that you used to go to high school with, but I don’t want to look at anything of yours that will remind me of a scared turtle.     Got back home eventually on Monday after my breakdown. I’m usually home by 10pm, but that night I had to be towed back and didn’t make it home until 3am. I lost so much time I had to take Tuesday off, because I didn’t have the D.O.T. hours required to work the next day. It gave me a taste of what retirement would be like. I played with my granddaughter all day. Nice. But I’m back to work today. Not so nice.     We’re given seven option/sick days at work per year. If we don’t use them, they pay us for them at the end of the year. So, having to take an option day, I don’t look at it as a paid day off, I look at it as losing a day’s pay at the ...