Jesse Gall

Father’s Day and Air Hockey

In Holidays on June 19, 2011 at 11:13 am

Last night, to celebrate a friend’s birthday, the cast of Dreamland Drive-In got together and celebrated at a cabin overlooking all of Pigeon Forge. Who knew the lights coming off of upside down buildings and fake castles would look so pretty? The cabin had two decks, the lower one had a hammock and the higher one had a Jacuzzi. Nice life.

Even better, inside the upstairs there was a foosball table, a pool table, and an air hockey table. So naturally, I took it upon myself to start a small air hockey tournament. A four person round robin if you will, each player clanging the neon green puck like it were a pesky rodent needing to be squashed. Perhaps a mole.

At that point, I thought of my father in two ways. First, the mole. My dad has one in his back yard and could be, at this very moment, reenacting a small piece of Bill Murray’s Caddy Shack, running around with pitchforks and low-level explosives (just kidding about the explosives, not the pitchfork though). That’s the thing about my dad, he turns silly the most annoying of situations, immediately transforming what could be in incredibly large pain in the neck into at least a good story to tell. For as long a I can remember he’s told me stories I love. He’d make them up when I was a kid or he’d embellish true stories (only a little!) when I was older to make things even funnier. If you like the stories I have to tell, you’ll have to thank my dad for that. He taught me practically everything I know.

Second, when the final clash of air hockey was occurring right in front of me, I took it upon myself to narrate the action with as thick a British accent I could muster, like tennis commentary or My Fair Lady. “Kevin with the serve, gently plinking the Nickelodeon green puck back and forth, waiting for a moment of onslaught. His eyes are focused and he hits the puck! Ricochet left. Return ricochet! Close call ricochet! SO MANY RICOCHETS! AND HE SCOREEEEEESSSSS!!!!”

In that moment, I felt like my dad. The only way I could have been more like my father was if I walked around the room celebrating with an arm tuba. This isn’t the first time this has happened though, sounding like my father not British commentary. It’s happened a few times over the last couple of weeks. I make a joke or use a voice and hear Mr. Gall. Whoa.

But you know what, most people follow a statement like that, “I sound like my father!”, with a “blech” or a “yuck,” some look on their face like they smelled something awful. Not me. I say “whoa.” Super cliche I know, but I am proud to be even an iota like my father. He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met and he knows how to do everything. Take you to Austin Powers movies as a kid and quote them for the next fifteen years? He can do it. Take your son to Magic Mountain for his birthday and still get on the Superman ride like seven times? He can do it. Change your oil? He can do it. Design and construct a one-0f-a-kind high tech home theater? He can do it. Trade stocks from his computer and actually make money in a declining market? He can do it. Raise two kids who love, respect, and look up to him? He most certainly can do it.

You will have to understand if this blog post didn’t seem too centric on universal topics, arm tuba jokes flying over your heads and all. But today wasn’t really about the reader. Today is about one reader in particular. So Happy Father’s Day Mr. Gall!

Here’s to seeing you in something everyday. I love you Dad.

Also, Dad, we need to play air hockey soon. There would be so much British.

Until the end, the Mended Blend.

  1. I have defeated the mole. I still love going fast on rolly coasts. Never stop laughing and helping others do so.
    And above all, honor those in the world around you (it really works).
    Thank you for honoring me today. This was awesome. Keep after your dreams.
    Love you, Dad

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