I’ve written about my dad so often that there are times when I wonder if I’m out of stories. It’s in those moments that I pull up my archived interviews, including several with him in the months before he died on Aug. 5, 2019.
I always find a gem. In this case, it came from a discussion about women, namely my dating history, which, prior to meeting my wife, often caused the old man to shake his head. In particular, this passage on Dad meeting an ex-girlfriend and her family had my wife and I in tears last night:
“Ernie, I will never forget walking underneath that bridge and coming out, seeing all those people with those flat heads,” he said with a straight face. “I said, ‘Oh my God, what has the boy done.’”
I’m sure that comes across as mean, but Dad really wasn’t trying to be. He was just the most brutally honest person I’ve ever met, and he didn’t mince words if he thought one of his boys was making a mistake.
“I didn’t like her, Ernie,” he said. “I mean, she was not very bright. She was very selfish. She was a drama queen. Everything was about her.”
I tell this story not only because I find it amusing, but also because it reminds me how much I miss him. On what would have been his 79th birthday, I’m sharing a couple of his pearls of wisdom:
“You are who you hang out with.”: I heard this for the first time at age 13 in 1989, during a time when my brother was hanging out with a sorted crowd. It stuck with me through the years, and it’s probably why I’ve had the same best friend, a fine person, for 34 years now.
“There is an ass for every seat.”: My brother and I practically grew up at craft shows, watching as our father, a true introvert, dazzled customers with an engaging personality we rarely saw when we were young. I also was fascinated by my father’s inventory of buckles, including one for the “Hog Farmers of America.” I asked the old man, “Who the hell is going to buy this, Dad?” “Son, there is an ass for every seat. You watch, I’ll sell that buckle.” He sold it the same day.
“Zero plus zero equals zero.”: “The customer is always right” was not a phrase WebbCraft embraced, especially if said customer was rude. That was the case at St. Charles, Missouri, in 1990, as a couple let their kids touch every wallet in our booth, creating a large mess on two tables. All the while, the couple touched and rearranged nearly every belt on our racks without making a purchase. When they left, my father straightened the product, shook his head, looked at me and said, “Son, zero plus zero equals zero.” I don’t remember laughing harder at a show.
There were thousands more through the years. I use many of them now as a dad. I just hope my kids see them as gems, too.