Guys in Cardigans...

Two blogs in one day?!  Yes my friends.  In the summer, all things are possible.  I realized I'd forgotten to relay a funny conversation I had with my dad.  It went a little something like this.  Enjoy.

"So, let me ask you a question."  Dad clears his throat a little and prepares what is formed as a question but is really more of a speech.
"Ok..."
"Is that look, you know, like Jim from 'The Office,' is that the look now?"
"What look?"
"The dress pants and shirt and tie..."
"What, like dressed up?  Nice?"  I didn't understand my dad's somewhat disapproving tone if we were talking shirts and ties here.
"Well, with their pants low and their shirts tucked in but kind of bloused out..."  I could picture Jim Halpert quite easily, but I did not understand how his normal work attire was an issue.
"And Chuck, too, dresses like that."
"It seems just dressed up, to me.  I think it looks nice."
"But it's--" Dad could see I wasn't getting it.  So he modeled for us.  He pulled his shorts farther down and bloused out his shirt.  It did not look like Jim Halpert's work clothes.  I laughed.
"It's kind of messy, in like a lazy 'I'm trying but not trying too hard' kind of way."
"Well, Jim's character is supposed to be a little lazy and messy... but not really Chuck..."
"So is that just like, the style?"
"Yeah Dad, I guess that's just the dressed up style these days for guys... But Dad, I think it might be that they're just tall guys with long torsos..."

I suppose to my dad, pants that come under the bellybutton mean sloppiness/laziness in dress.  OK.  I'm looking at Zachary Levi here, and sloppy/lazy does not come to mind.  But whatever.

It makes me laugh when my dad analyzes fashion.  It reminds me of the days when I lived at home and would watch "Project Runway."  My dad rolled his eyes every time, but he stayed on the couch.  Maybe it was just so he could make fun of the contestants.  He liked to pick the most ridiculous line they'd say that week and repeat it in the most stupid sounding voice possible.  His personal favorite?  "It's art in motion," he'd repeat in a nasal, whiny voice.

I wonder what he'd say about a look I kind of like on the Jim Halpert/Chuck Bartowski types: cardigans.  I'm not talking Mr. Rogers here, or George Costanza.  Cardigans only work on the tall, toned, yuppie intellectual type.  Sorry, if you are not the tall, toned, yuppie intellectual type and you are trying to work the cardigan.  It probably isn't working for you.  Not like it's working for this guy, anyway.

Sorry, I know there's not much substance to this blog.  But it made me laugh, and hey, I'm single, so I'm allowed to appreciate guys in cardigans, right?  Right?!

My Founding Fathers...

Breaking from the topic recently at hand (mainly because I just don't want to think about it right now at all), I wanted to blog about my 'fathers,' which is quite appropriate, what with today being Fathers' Day and all.

I hate to admit it, but John Mayer was actually right about something: the importance of fathers in their daughters' lives.  They often make or break a girl's confidence, independence, and self-respect.  Let me tell you first about my grandfathers.  It will not be eloquent or witty-- just from the heart.

My mom's dad, Jack, is the quintessential Irishman.  The only thing that would make him more Irish would be a brogue.  In fact, I just called him and he said, "How's yourself?"  Grandpa has been to almost every Grandparents' Day, play, band performance, church program, and graduation that I've ever had... no matter how terrible the music sounds or how much he would rather be sleeping.  Grandpa has a perpetual twinkle in his eye and smile on his face, and one of the things I love most about him is when he thinks he knows what you're going to say next so he tries to finish your sentence. :)  He's also a fantastic dancer.  He and Grandma won a Jitterbug contest on their honeymoon, and he still can dance with the best of them.  He tears up every time the whole family is together as we hold hands and pray before dinner.  I remember him saying, "Hello, Gorgeous," to me when gorgeous was and is not an adjective typically attached to me.  He's a man of many talents: he painted ceramics and cross-stitched masterpieces.  Though not a typical cuddly grandpa, not one of the ten of us grandkids has ever doubted his love for us.  Grandpa turned 80 last Christmas, and I'm thankful for every moment I savor with him.

I never met my dad's father, Len.  Growing up, I would listen with eager ears to every story Dad told about him.  I thought he was fascinating and I wished so badly I could have known him, but he died even before my parents were married.  Dad says Jackie Gleason from "The Honeymooners" reminds him of his dad, so watching that show made me feel a bit like I knew him.  He wasn't in many pictures, so I actually hadn't seen a picture of his whole face until very recently when my aunt mailed this picture to me.  I couldn't stop looking at it and wishing I'd known him.  I used to imagine what it would have been like if he had been in my life.  I imagined that he'd always make me laugh and that he would be a lot like my dad, but more gruff like my great-grandpa, Papa Len (see previous post about him).  Though I never knew him, I look forward to the day when I'll meet him in heaven and tell him that he must have been a great man to have made my dad and his sisters.

And now, my dad.  He was (and is) always, always there.  He was home for every summer break and every holiday.  His very presence was comforting, knowing if for some reason I needed him, he'd be there.  I think I probably savored this more than most because I knew that he might not always be there.  My dad was very ill several times in my life, and at a young age I realized he might not be around forever, or even very long.  I used to think about who would walk me down the aisle if my dad was gone.  But God was gracious, and my dad stuck around.  Dad taught us to be hard workers and good stewards, not just in word, but in deed.  He painstakingly restored our 100 year-old house with my mom and maintained it well, because God had provided it for us.  We wasted nothing, and we wanted for nothing even though we had little.  And Dad always made us laugh.  I remember Sunday afternoons playing Barbie upstairs and hearing my dad howling from the living room watching "America's Funniest Home Videos."  I remember goofy puns and funny voices and fart noises and ridiculous dancing that he'd do just to make us laugh.  He is a great storyteller.  I remember sitting on his lap on the couch in the living room, asking him to tell stories.  They were usually about bad things he'd done as a kid.  He taught us, too.  I learned to love history because he'd teach us about it at every opportunity and my parents would take us on vacations to historically important places.  His quirkiness taught us about culture-- whether it was old B movies or vintage toy soldiers or old Marvel comic books.  Most importantly though, Dad was and continues to be an example of a godly man.  He loves the Lord and serves Him daily, and I know that is what drives his heart and life.  More than anything, that is what I appreciate about my dad.  And though this is a post dedicated to fathers, I have to acknowledge that my mom's partnership probably helped make Dad the great dad he is... I'll write one for you soon, mom. :)

I hope that didn't sound too much like three eulogies.

Tell me what you love about your fathers!