The Poet's Day Off

I haven't had any for a long time. (Days off, that is.)

How y'all doing? It's really great to be here in [your city, wherever that is].

I've just finished my third beer. Don't usually do that, but it IS my day off. Anyway, something about that third beer made me think of something that happened a few years ago. Actually, I was four years old at the time. My father, who would have been about 25 at the time, had come home late from work, after drinking beer with the guys at a bar and watching stag movies (probably not what you think), and was trying to establish a precedent with my mother that it was OK for him to do this. Mom, who would have been about 24 at the time, wasn't having any of that.

Mom: "how many beers did you have?"

Dad: "I don't know, probably about eight."

This was not a good start for Dad, and he lost that round.

But Mom saved the knockout for the next week, on the same day. Sure enough, Dad was late getting home. I knew something was up, because Mom was wearing a close-fitting black dress and a picture hat, and a lot of perfume. She prepped me beforehand so I wouldn't be scared, telling me that she was going to tell Dad that she was going out, but that she wasn't really going to do it, but just didn't want him drinking and coming home late anymore. She met Dad at the door in what she imagined to be a whorish getup (but my Mom was quite a looker, and the effect was really beautiful).

Dad; "What's all THIS about?"

Mom: "I'm going to Tijuana."

Dad: "What do you mean, you're going to Tijuana?" (They both pronounced it like "Tia Juana.")

Mom: "Well, if you can go out drinking and watch films of naked women, I can go to Tijuana."

Poor old Dad was down for the count, and he never recovered.

I learned a lot from my Dad. First, I learned a great work ethic (which is why it's been so long since I've taken a poet's day off). Second, I learned to always appreciate what I have. Third, I learned to never exaggerate the amount I've had to drink.

I also learned to never forget our anniversary. But that's another story.

Text © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler. Photo by Fergus McCarthy of Midleton, Cork, Ireland.