tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181384280922206181.post6485236123301134850..comments2023-10-21T08:52:35.144-05:00Comments on wonderfullyflawed: Interesting peopleThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14120757722273260219noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181384280922206181.post-33334635695812305642012-11-10T09:07:41.354-06:002012-11-10T09:07:41.354-06:00What a wonderful telling of three delightful stori...What a wonderful telling of three delightful stories!<br /><br />From my own family's version of Modern Family, my dad was rapidly approaching the age of 70 when I was in my early teens, during the early 1970's. About once a month my dad and I could be found sitting on a bench inside the newly opened Almeda Mall, on the east side of Houston, waiting and watching as my mother shopped (I did not inherit the shopping gene)<br /><br />I have a vivid memory of one bench-sitting experience when a beautiful young woman, probably in her early twenties, sat down on the bench's open space to my right. In today's language she might refer to herself as a person of color. In the early 1970's she was sporting the very stylish, very LARGE Afro hairstyle.<br /><br />To my horror, my dad (sitting to my left) leaned forward, took a long look at her, and said "I've always wondered what hair like that could possibly feel like."<br /><br />Two important facts were in place: I was a young teenager (meaning I was already embarassed by just about anything my parents did in public) and I was sitting BETWEEN my dad and the young woman (so I could not hide or run in the opposite direction without notice). <br /><br />Oh how I wanted to crawl underneath the mall's bench! I wanted to gasp as teenagers can: "Daaaaaddddd!!!!" But I just sat and held perfectly still, looking straight forward--kind of like a bird caught out in the open with a hawk or other predator circling above. If I didn't move, maybe she wouldn't see me.<br /><br />To my absolute surprise the young woman grinned a beautiful smile, leaned forward (right in front of my lap) and said with a proud and amused voice: "Go ahead and touch it, if you like." And so my dad reached out and patted the top and back of her hair, about 8 inches in front of my face. He made some comment that expressed his appreciation and admiration--and yes, that it felt soft and fluffy.<br /><br />And then, to my continued amazement, my dad and the young woman continued in relaxed and joyful coversation. I'm guessing that it was his usual retired-teacher conversation that asked about her "schooling" and life interests. The fact of the matter is I have NO IDEA what they were chatting about because I sat in a state of silent shock (and, ok, embarassment).<br /><br />My mother arrived with shopping bags in hand and I jumped off the bench to make my teenage angst-ridden escape. But I did get up the courage to give the beautiful young woman a last look. She was watching me and gave me a smile that expressed: You have a sweet ol' grandpa. <br /><br />And so I realized: that is what my dad would have looked like to her--a kindly senior. So I'm not certain, but I'm guessing the young man with the green scaled tats would have really liked my dad--and the conversation my dad would definitely have initiated. :-)Emilyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04479780624208966355noreply@blogger.com