Chapter 1 - Dad and the Lady in the Rain

A lot of people have requested a blog post on my dad, or 'baba' as I call him. Here's one to start of with:

I observe my dad at work; at home; and with his friends—his life is full of light humor that frustrates the people who live with him, but amuses everyone else around him. I would describe my dad as a socially lovable, perpetually confused, workaholic. An odd combination I know, but you will understand if you read on.

I remember once we were returning from my friend’s, home that was maybe a ten minute drive from mine, and we got lost. He took a wrong turn and we ended up in a strange neighborhood that dad insisted was the correct way to go home. After a few loops in the neighborhood, realization dawned on him: this was not the correct way. “Don’t worry,” he said, “We’ll ask for directions.”

It was hurricane season, and that night it rained like any stormy night during a scary movie. He spotted a person slowly walking a dog. In this weather?! I thought. My dad drove up to him screaming “Sir! Sir!” at the top of his lungs, trying to get his attention. The lady walking the dog wasn’t too pleased at being called 'Sir'. She replied “Yes?” with venom dripping down her mouth. My dad stared straight into her eyes and said, “Sir, can you tell me how to get to Cranberry road?” The lady paused looking a bit startled, but then started giving directions. With that, my dad said, “Thank you so much, sir”, waved goodbye to the lady and drove away.

I looked at my dad then and said, “You know, she was a woman, right?”

“Yes I know,” he replied. I didn’t ask him to elaborate. We drove the rest of the way home quietly.

            My dad is like that. Once he makes up his mind about something, nothing can change it.

Once, dad tried to book a one-week cruise for us. He called the travel agent and asked what cruises go to the Caribbean. The travel agent listed ten cruises ending with Norwegian, Princess, and Carnival.

“Ah yes,” said my dad, “I want the last one; Liberty cruises.”

The travel agent said, “You mean Carnival?”

Dad: “Yes, that is what I mean. So what does the Liberty cruise have other than pool and spa?”

“Um,” the agent began unsurely, “Carnival cruises,” he said emphasizing the word, “has several things to offer.” He then listed the amenities.

My dad: “Excellent. We’ll go for Liberty travels!”

“Sir, it’s Carnival, not Liberty,” said the agent as politely as he could.

Dad: “Excellent!”

A small pause, and then the agent started again, “Alright, well how many passengers?”

“Three,” replied my dad.

“Two adults and one child?” the agent inquired.

“…Yes, two adults and one very small child,” replied my dad.

“How old is your child?” asked the travel agent.

Dad: “21”

That was the end of the conversation. A long pause. A little static. And then, for the first time in the history of customer salesmanship, a travel agent hangs up on the customer.

            Like I said: once dad makes up his mind, you cannot budge him: just as it didnt matter to him that the 'sir' in the rain was a lady, it didn’t matter that the actual name of the cruise was Carnival; dad had already decided that he wanted to go on Liberty travels with his wife and his very small, 21 year old daughter.