Emotions with Dad

Let me just preface this by saying my dad is a very kind person who is not, though this post might lead you to believe otherwise, a robot leading a man’s life.

That being said, he’s not exactly what I would call “emotional.”

My dad’s outlook on life and the role our feelings play in it is a little…dry.  One of my favorite moments at our dinner table was when my little brother was complaining about the crushing pressures of school work combined with chores around the house. My dad responded with,

“Well son, life’s tough. And then you die.”

I think Hallmark just found a new card don’t you?

My dad also has a unique approach to movies. Mark Drew’s criteria for a well-made film:

•           An ample number of explosions/guns/other harm-inducing weapons
•           Suspense of some kind (otherwise, he will be sleep in 15 minutes)
•          No animation whatsoever
•           Romance not needed, but it can be present if it all works out in the end
•           Which leads us to our final point, NOTHING SAD CAN HAPPEN.

My dad does not want to have his heartstrings pulled upon or even lightly tapped.  This isn't because sad movies truly move him, it's because he finds it unnecessary.   Who would pay money to watch something that makes them sad? That's just bananas.

 For example, my parents went to see Silver Linings Playbook, which most people agreed was one of the best movies this year. My dad’s review?

“Oh gosh, I hated it. It was depressing.  Everyone was unhappy. Why would I want to go watch a bunch of unhappy people for an hour and a half?”

“But Dad,” I said, tearing up just thinking about the movie, “it was a beautiful expression of the defiantly optimistic human condition reflected against the trials of mental illness.”

...Okay fine, I don’t talk like that in real life. My real response was something more like “But dad, it was so good! And the acting was really good too! And, I mean, everyone thinks it’s good. Like everyone.”

Ah, such eloquence.

Here are some imagined, yet possible, reviews by my dad of other beloved movies:

The Notebook: "They ended up together and then they die. Why did I even watch that?"

Finding Nemo: "It was a cartoon about fish. I fell asleep in the credits."

Braveheart: "Pretty good except the main guy died in the end. I could have stopped watching it before that and liked it better."

Any of the Die Hard movies: "Great flick. I'd watch it again."

Shockingly enough, when it comes to interactions with real people my dad likes to keep it light and impersonal.

Last night at dinner he explained that “When someone asks you how you’re doing, that is not an invitation to tell them your life story.”

The conversation went on like this:

 “Why even ask then?”

“Because it’s polite.”

“Okay but what if someone isn’t fine? What if you ask how they’re doing and they have a malignant tumor? What are they supposed to say, ‘Everything’s great thanks for asking!”

“Why would you tell someone you have a malignant tumor?? That doesn't make any sense!”

My mother, as those who know her might have guessed, was taken aback by all of this. You see, when my mom asks someone how they’re doing, she hopes they share their life story. Whether it’s her sister or the cashier at the grocery store, there is nothing she’d rather do then talk with them for hours about the weird pain in their left leg or their high school volleyball coach who passed away last week (It’s a hard loss, but we all have to go through it).

“Honey,” she said, “you better tell your coworkers not to respond with actual answers then, because they probably have no idea what you think about this.”

My dad shook his head knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson there.”

Though not at all plausible, I like to imagine my dad calling a firm wide meeting. He’d be at the front of a business-y business meeting room (you’ve seen the TV shows), with a power point presentation ready to go. With some handy-dandy internet magic, I have attached the imagined presentation here: 

Mark Drew's Business-y Business Presentation for Business People

(Excuse the clip art on the last slide, but I couldn't help myself. I'm an art enthusiast, what can I say?)

The truth is, my dad just sees emotional issues as a private affair. Against all odds, he still managed to raise a daughter who cries watching life alert commercials.  

To reiterate, my dad really is a nice person. And hey, if he ever asks you how you are, I encourage you to say whatever you like! In fact, here’s a challenge: the person who can give my dad the longest, saddest, most personal response to a “how are you?” gets a prize.

I can’t reveal what the prize is now, but it rhymes with schmuthing and looks like the words “no” and “thing” but just a little different!

p.s. About the guy in the banana costume, I know what you're thinking and yes, I did think about adding a picture of bananas in pajamas instead. In fact, here's a picture of that dashing duo now, just for good measure: