Thursday, 28th September '06
My penchant for boys who behave a little bit like clowns may stem from my father. Weiling used to say she always saw me going for some guy entirely like my dad (don't all girls?), and in a way I see what she means.
Anyways, Dad is hilarious.
Yesterday he went for a bike ride - finally putting those $500 dollar bikes we bought in 1993 to some use beyond me riding around the void decks. In doing so he wore these gosh-awful khaki bermudas. Take a pair of khaki office pants, nothing particularly cool or slick about them, and cut them off at the knee. Wear a typical plain brown belt with gold buckle that any middle-aged uncle would wear, and then couple that getup with a striped T-shirt, long black socks that cover the calf (office socks, not soccer socks), and white battered Asics shoes. With my daddy's signature bald head and specs.
What I love about Dad is that kinda cool he has by being so absolutely uncool. Someone once told me (I think it was Swedish David) that there are cool people, and then there are people who know they're not cool and don't even try to be cool - and that's cool. He was refering to Ben Scheider I think, but it applies to Dad anyway. Essentially what I'm trying to say is that that get up was as orbid as they come, but Dad was quite happy to parade it around for the viewing pleasure of all and sundry, even in spite of my merciless jibes.
So he comes back from his bike ride:
Me: My gawd, Dad, you look like a colonial policeman!
Dad: What colonial policeman? [quickly picks up on the joke and laughs]
Me: All you need is the stupid hat. What the hell are you thinking, walking around like that?
A few more jibes later:
Dad: Aiyah, not nice meh? I thought I looked like Irwin.
Me: Irwin who the heck is Ir... DAD! Irwin?! The CROCODILE HUNTER, Steve Irwin?!
Dad: Yeah, Steve Irwin.
Me: C'mon Daddy, you look more like Steve Urkel.
In case you can't put your on finger on who Steve Urkel is, click the link above.
And if that wasn't enough. He proceeds to wear that abomination to Ah Ma's house for dinner, and then all the way out to Nanyang Poly to fetch Ma home from work. Incidentally, Mum agrees about the colonial policeman / Steve Urkel likeness.
I am, however, unable to stop him from walking out of the car at the petrol kiosk.
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]