The Charlie Bravo Story

Russian Collision

Dad here; last night I heard a terrible sound, the herking yerk of a canine who had evidently indulged in too much of a bovine diet. Not wishing my foot to discover the gelatinous mass at a later date and in the dark, I levitated out of the bed and into a pair of Adidas warm up pants. One fluid motion, never touching the floor in transit, a triple axle pirouette guaranteed to get a ten from even the grumpy East German judge.

After the diasaster was averted and tranquility restored, I happened to see my reflection in the lower half of the mirror. Remember the Adidas track suit pants? The Adidas with the three white stripes down each side? The Adidas purchased in the boys section at Academy sports because the men’s sizes have a 32″ inseams?

I realized that I looked like the lower half af the world’s shortest barefoot Russian gangster.

So it occurred to me that I had to make a decision. This was a major turning point in my life.A change must be made, new path must be taken; Am I half in or am I half out? It was time to take the metaphorical plunge, so here it is:

I’m going to start dressing as a Russian gangster.

And “why”?, might you ask. And the answer would be “why not?”. Why does one have to a reason to purchase the matching Adidas jacket, buff up a pair of Run-DMC’s finest kicks and throw on a pair of cheap gas station sunglasses? Voila, a new me.

But I really want to do it for the most primal of reasons; I want to embarass my kids. Even though they are grown and have moved out years ago, that drive, that passion, has never left my heart. I know that they think that they are beyond my grasp these days, but I assure you that old dad’s still got his a piece of his mojo.

So, here’s how it’s going to go down. The first emotion that they will experience upon witnessing my transformation, will of course embarrassment. This is good.This builds character. But the next emotion will be fear; has dad really lost it this time? Has Dr Dementia decided to make a house call a bit earlier than expected? Are the neurons having that much of an issue following their appointed pathways through his cerebellum?

But ultimately they would feel the greatest emotion if all: grudging admiration. Dad’s still got it. Even in the fourth quarter of the game, he still has the moxie to metamorphosize at will, evolving into another persona, a virtual bipedal chameleon without equal.

Then again, it sounds like a silly plan, although the reasoning still has merit. You should never start a new career later in life that requires a new wardrobe, and the same philisophy applies to lifestyles; it’s too late to go changing just to be changing.

This is just a 3 second snippet of what went through my head as I made my nightly pilgramage towards the refigerator last night to commune with a bottle of Coke Zero. This is what I deal with on a nightly basis.

It’s never lonely at the Casa del Whackos.

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