Slurred Crooning

I am fairly certain my old man has picked up much of his English from TV. Much of it is eerily reminiscent of the opening monologue from some early 60s cool stuff like "The Dean Martin Show"...This works for him. He had jet black hair that he wore straight back for most of his life. Later got a single grey streak that shot straight back, that was cool. It's since spread but you can still see a relatively luxurious mane, that works with with a Dino vibe. But its not just the hair, its also the vibe...

Classics include him calling me or the bumpasaurus "chicky baby" randomly and the occasional Twist competitions he would challenge us to...randomly and in the street. "Come on Baby, Chubby Checker Style" he would shout as he got way to low for a man in his mid 40s in a super market...awesome...

It got to the point where, eventually, when speaking on the phone, my mother, father and I will all casually address each other as "baby", as if we were late night DJs on an R&B Station, about to introduce a Teddy Pendergrass record.

Not all his affectations have worked. As a boy, he would occasionally call from work and say "Hello, this is Batman. Where is Robin?". He would deliver this in a low growl. Even more disturbing would be when he would call back and using the same voice proclaim himself the Hulk, looking for Hulk Boy....big nerd that i was, I asked if he was actually looking for Rick Jones...coming out of character he would ask "who?"

I like the idea of my dad as my own personal Dean Martin impression. Any move away from that is disturbing and I have always pushed back hard. His game is evolving again. Last week, he saw my cherubic godson after a few years and immediately remarked "wow baby..." I was smiling before he could finish...

"we have to do some exercise, brother"

What the hell?

I was left wondering if he was watching more American Gladiators on NBC and was now picking up Hulk Hogan's affectation. That would blow. My dad would look dumb with long hair.