RaisingDad

   as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene The Sky Is Black! “a glitch in the simulatrix”   It was raining. Not pouring, but steady. I had already let the dogs outside to do their business. They weren't happy, but they do what they're told. My father, on the other hand, is a stubborn old coot. That’s okay. So am I.      He was sitting at the kitchen table. At the HEAD of the kitchen table. You know... MY chair.      "You'll have to skip your walk today, pop," I told him. "It's raining."      "No, it's not," he said.       My father is a man who doesn’t like to be told what to do. It had only rained all night. That morning was no different.      "Of course it's raining," I told him. "Look outside."      "I AM looking outside," he said, not looking outside.    ...

    as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Death & Other Minor Inconveniences “never ask anyone about anybody”       Hungry or not, my father insists on eating on a schedule. You know what that means? It means I eat on a schedule, too. HIS schedule. You wouldn’t believe the pounds I’ve packed on as a result. Although, if I’m honest, women are the primary reason there's more of me to love. By women, I mean Betty Crocker, Little Debbie, and Dolly Madison. My beautiful wife doesn't think I’m overweight, though. Just six inches too short for my weight. Getting back to my father, my wife’s concerned he'll choke on something while eating, so she makes me join him as a sort of culinary bodyguard. This chore is less of a calling and more of a burden because my father likes to drone on about who’s sick or has died. These conversations begin benignly enough— “Shouldn’t you be mowing the lawn?” he’ll say, confusing m...

  as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Getting Old Is Not For Wimps (Part Two) “it’s not the bending over… it’s the getting back up” When my father thought his radio was broken ( October 2022) , and all it turned out to be was he had the volume control knob turned down, it made me laugh... but it made me sad, too.       There was a time when my father could do anything he set his mind to. At twelve he’d fix his uncle's car in exchange for the opportunity to take it for a spin. I’d bet, even at that age, he tried enticing the fairer sex with a ride in his borrowed jalopy.      When he was stationed in the Philippines during World War Two, he built a washing machine for his platoon. He used a metal barrel, a jeep, and his own personal smarts. I don't know if washing machines had even been invented then, but HE had one. I have a picture of it. He's posing next to it with a big smile...

   as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim and Henry Duchene Getting Old Sure Stinks (Part One) “sharing is caring, unless they’re problems” I’ve reached the age where I've gone from “old enough to know better” to “too old to care.”      Fortunately for me, my wife cares, so she makes sure I go to my various doctor appointments where I get poked, prodded, and lectured. Unfortunately for her, I’m like my mother, who didn’t care to go to the doctor or take medication, and yet somehow lived to a ripe old age.      When I explained this aversion to my buddy Maloney, he reminded me of a friend of ours who recently died from prostate cancer. Like my mother, our friend also didn’t like going to the doctor. By the time he went, his cancer was Stage 4 and already spreading to his other organs.      “If they caught it earlier,” Maloney told me, “he’d be alive today.”     ...

  as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine RaisingDad by Jim Duchene Fuzzy Consciousness “easing my way into geezerhood” I’ve reached the age where I've gone from “old enough to know better” to “too old to care.”      Fortunately for me, my wife cares, so she makes sure I go to my various doctor appointments where I get poked, prodded, and lectured. Unfortunately for her, I’m like my mother, who didn’t care to go to the doctor or take medication, and yet somehow lived to a ripe old age.      When I explained this aversion to my buddy Maloney, he reminded me of a friend of ours who recently died from prostate cancer. Like my mother, our friend also didn’t like going to the doctor. By the time he went, his cancer was Stage 4 and already spreading to his other organs.      “If they caught it earlier,” Maloney told me, “he’d be alive today.”      "See?" my wife said, also reminding me of ...