16 May 2006

Too Sappy for You

I come from very different parents. My mom, frequently referred to as, "The lovely and gracious Mrs. McGinn" and my father, who is known to most as "That son on a bitch."

As a kid, there was every indication that I'd grow up to be lovely and gracious. My mother was educated and cultured and made every effort to make certain I learned about the finer things in life. For example, I can spot a fake Gucci bag from 200 paces, my French is passable and I've read every Miss Manners edition printed since 1982. I know which fork is for eating fish and I can use it properly. I like the ballet. All these things are directly attributed to my genteel mom.

On the other hand, my dad was, well, crusty. A curmudgeon, if you will. He was a self-employed builder with little patience for people who didn't move fast enough to suit him. No stranger to eating while standing over the sink, the ol' man treated his regular injuries with duct tape and Bounty towels. He taught me a few things as well. I can walk like Redd Foxx in Sanford & Son. I know how to pop out and bondo the dented fender of a '42 Ford. Belching and other bodily functions are hilarious! Also courtesy of my dad; a hot little temper.

To summarize my unique blend of geneaology and personality:
I can cuss like a Teamster but with more fluidity and in better context.
After sizing up the situation, I ain't afraid to fat-mouth anybody.
I'm comfortable chatting up the Captain of the ship or the busboy from Peru.
My closet contains linen slacks and camouflage cargo pants.
Car show or Broadway play are both a fun evening for me.

I'll never be able to say it enough, thanks you guys. And I love you.