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Coffee in the saucer.

  1. Sep 20, 2008 #1
    There's a new Dunkin' Donuts shop opening up about a mile from my house. That will be the 4th one within 5 miles. It's a doughnut shop, but I think of it as a coffee shop because my wife sends me out for coffee every Saturday and Sunday morning. There are Starbucks in the area too, but she says it's too strong for her. I did a free association this morning which ended up bringing me to mind of my father. He died nearly ten years ago. He was a traveling salesman so we only ever saw him on weekends. I suppose they had takeout coffee back then too, but he didn't drink it. Saturday and Sunday he would take me to the diner nearby and we wouid sit on the stools at the counter. When we ate as a family, we always sat in booths. As a result, I equate sitting at the counter with these manly early morning outings. He would order a cup of coffee for himself and a glass of milk for me. Any coffee that spilled into his saucer was mine and he would pour it into my milk. I guess I just never realized how sloppy my father was with his coffee, even though he was never sloppy at any other time. It's not Father's day, but why wait? What were your father's shortcomings?
     
  2. jcsd
  3. Sep 20, 2008 #2
    I watched Japanese Father-son movie yesterday! Both father and son don't have people skills.

    Father commits some mistake so his son never wants to see him. The son loves some Chiense folk operas (in remote Yunan or whatever province) Neither him nor father speak Chinese. The son promised to return to Yunan (last year) and record a performance "Travelling alone for thousands of miles" .... etc
    And, the father discovers this from his son's wife.. he goes there and records the performance after so many difficulties --> but his son dies before he could do that and tells his wife that he loves him!

    messy summary!


    But beautiful movie!
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 25, 2014
  4. Sep 20, 2008 #3

    Moonbear

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    Wow, that was one long mind-wander from another Dunkin' Donuts in the People's Republic of South New Jersey.

    Can you send one of those Dunkin' Donuts to my town? We have one donut shop that makes a decent donut, but they close on Sundays, which is the one day of the week I like to treat myself to a sweet breakfast. I miss having three of them within walking distance of one another. I'd have never gotten my dissertation written without midnight runs to Dunkin' Donuts for a cup of coffee, light and sweet, a French cruller and a jelly donut. :biggrin:

    And now you have me missing diners too. We have a chain restaurant that's somewhat like a diner in terms of food and good coffee, and a choice of sitting at a table or counter, but it's lacking the hustle and bustle, clatter of dishes and cups, waitresses who call you "hon" (okay, I don't really miss that part much), and fast service.

    My father was always very proper about food and dining. Sit properly, use your utensils, come to the dinner table fully dressed (no bare feet), etc. EXCEPT when it came to steak or pork chop bones. Then we were allowed to use our hands and gnaw on the bones. For some reason, those last few bits of meat on the bones just tasted so much better than the rest of the meal.
     
  5. Sep 20, 2008 #4
    My Father is very indirect. He never quite says what he means, yet leads you down the path to figure it out.
    Example.
    Dad...This car has really a good air conditioner.
    Dad... Do all Saturn's have such good air?
    Dad... They must need good air conditioning where these are made.
    Me... Dad are you cold?
     
  6. Sep 20, 2008 #5

    Lisa!

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    :rofl:
    Wow! Great dad! :smile:
     
  7. Sep 20, 2008 #6
    Very Japanese. In that language, "It's a little stuffy in here." is in the imperative mood and means "Open the window."
     
  8. Sep 20, 2008 #7
    Well, hmm he did dress up as a Geisha girl to be on the TV game show, Lets Make a Deal.
     
  9. Sep 20, 2008 #8
    He did not! That's fabulous, hypatia!
     
  10. Sep 20, 2008 #9

    Chi Meson

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    My dad was a nuke sub captain in the 60s and 70s, playing tag with the Soviets at the height of the cold war.

    Never told me any stories about his patrols until, like, a month ago. I'm not joking. He only recently told me how he navigated a new route through the straits of Sicily.

    40 years on, and I guess he's finally figured out I'm not a spy.:rofl:
     
  11. Sep 21, 2008 #10

    Dale

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    My dad is a genius. One of the most obnoxious things when I was growing up is whenever I asked him a homework question. I knew that he knew the answer, but he would never tell me. Instead he would tell me to "go look it up", and (if necessary) would show me where to look it up.

    That bugged me a lot growing up, but knowing how to look things up has been really useful. The mental side of "tough love" I guess.
     
  12. Sep 21, 2008 #11

    Moonbear

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    Mine would tell me to "go look it up" too, but that's because he usually DIDN'T know the answer. :uhh:
     
  13. Sep 21, 2008 #12
    I'd go look it up, then ask my dad, and he'd tell me that the book was wrong. And I was at an age where I didn't understand that there was such a thing as "opinion" in written work and that even school texts -- particularly history texts -- could be written in the fashion of the times. I was young enough to still believe that, if it was printed in a book, it was absolutely authoritative. You didn't question it because, well, everyone told you to look in a book if you wanted to know something. It was shocking to hear my dad declare that a book was wrong. I thought he was bonkers.
     
    Last edited: Sep 21, 2008
  14. Sep 21, 2008 #13
    My dad was drunkard so I never really asked for help or developed any sense of relationship with him. I ill-wished many times though :rolleyes:

    It's better now ...
     
  15. Sep 21, 2008 #14

    Math Is Hard

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    My biological father left right after I was born. When I was about 6 he started visiting me. He lived about 70 miles away. Now and then he made plans to take me to his house for the weekend, but he was flaky and sometimes would forget. I used to sit out in the driveway waiting for him until it was dark.
     
  16. Sep 21, 2008 #15

    Moonbear

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    Or maybe he was just worried you'd be a blabber-mouth and post it all over the internet. :uhh:

    :frown: That's so sad for both of you.

    My father passed away when I was 14...just in the nick of time...I still loved him and thought he was the best father in the world. I was only a year or two away from the "I know everything and my parents suck" stage of life.
     
  17. Sep 21, 2008 #16
    I guess I was lucky. I thought my dad was a tyrant because he made me mow the lawn.
     
  18. Sep 21, 2008 #17

    Moonbear

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    :rofl: I WANTED to mow the lawn! I saw that as a "grown up" thing to do, and couldn't wait to do it. Both of my parents had bad allergies, so once it was determined I wouldn't cut off my toes with the lawnmower, and my mom learned to accept the "missed spots" on the lawn, it officially became my job. :approve: I was THRILLED to get to do it. Of course, that was only with the push mower. I was a menace with the riding mower, mostly because I was too short to reach the clutch or push down on the brake hard enough...or maybe it was that I couldn't remember which foot did which. :uhh: Either way, the riding mower kept going forward in spite of all other efforts on my part, and my mom's screaming on her part, as I mowed through the ivy patch. :biggrin: I think I was just a few years ahead of the times...it wasn't much later before my mom decided the ivy HAD to go, and ordered the mowing of the ivy patch year after year until it was finally killed off.
     
  19. Sep 22, 2008 #18

    lisab

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    My dad is a very unusual man. Raised Mormon, he refused to raise his kids that way, even though he could never bring himself to totally separate from his religion. He would rather see his kids get suspended from school for fighting, than get good grades. But only if we were fighting for the right reasons - like for other kids who were being picked on.

    He expected us to be both paragons of virtue, and rebels.

    He would explain the world to me - an 8-year-old kid - like he was talking to an equal - and he was a civil engineer, lol. I hardly knew what he was talking about, but I guess some of it stuck.

    He had some pretty incredible demons...much, much worse than most people. I guess that's what this thread is really about, but I could never divulge that. Just suffice to say, he's quite a unique and unusual man.
     
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