Today, I took a roadtrip with my dad. He was always the driver, but today, I drove. It was an easy trip; 2-1/2 hours up to Fleetwood, Pennsylvania. Lunch at The Inn at Moselem Springs. My sister drove down from the New York City area to meet us. She brought one of her daughters. I had one of my sons.
My dad commented that he was about the median age at the restaurant. I actually did the calculation when I got home. Assuming there were 30 of those “really old” folks there, my dad (75), 6 people between 30 and 50 (including my sister and I), a 12 year old and a 9 year old, I’d say the median age is 5 years older than his age. Must be nice to be one of the young’uns.
But I digress.
What is really striking to me when I spend 5 hours straight talking to my dad (well, honestly, you have to subtract the 1 hour that he slept in the car when I took a client call) is that some of the things I like best about myself come from him. He’s happy. He’s funny. Okay, a little corny, but I can relate. And, admittedly, he’s a little odd. Did I say a little?
Those who know me, know I have many of his odd habits and sayings. And a lot of his ideals and viewpoints.
When I was young, I took the opposite view of my parents – maybe because I thought I was supposed to or maybe because I wanted to the discussion. And discuss we did. We talked about serious issues and world problems and stupid stuff too.
As I’ve grown up, I’ve come around to agree with much of his politics. And religious viewpoints. Not all. I’m my own person.
But it’s amazing to look back at a body of work and say, I know that I was influenced by that artist and I’m still an original.