Over the weekend, we had the opportunity to visit with some college friends. We have all experienced changes since graduating from college. We are older. We have kids. We have new jobs, responsibilities, and interests. Our kids came with us, so they had the opportunity to meet our college friends and to hang out with their kids.
It’s fun to listen to the life updates and stories everyone has to share, and I enjoy jumping into the fray with my own stories.
Saying goodbye always takes some time which isn’t the greatest thing for impatient kids. I was sharing a story with a couple of our friends right before we left which delayed our departure. When we finally got in the car, my son began to mock me by repeating my story almost word for word. I don’t remember is words exactly, but he said something about me droning on and on and on about something few people cared to hear.
It’s funny how the tables turn. I seem to remember having the same response when my own father would drone on and on and on about this or that. My friends actually started calling my dad Cliff Claven, the postman from the popular sitcom, Cheers. Cliff was known for sharing a lot of details about a lot of trivial things. My dad seems to know a lot of things about a lot of things.
I smile as I think about a video my high school friends all refer to where my dad was briefly caught on video walking past a door. As he walked by the door, he could be heard saying, “Do you remember the All In The Family episode?” My dad has always been able to relate some sort of pop culture tidbit with a conversation or experience.
My dad is one of the smartest people I know. Seriously, he knows so much. His reading over the years and his ability to keep up with popular culture have helped to fill his mind with information. When you meet my dad, you will eventually be blessed with a story or information taken from the huge database of his brain. This trait used to drive me crazy as a teenager, but it has come to be something I greatly admire and respect.
As our family drove away from our college friend get together, I listened to my son, and I smiled. Maybe, I am turning into my dad. But maybe this isn’t a bad thing. I wonder if he’ll have the same thoughts in 25 years when his kids give him a hard time about his stories.