These last two mornings, I’ve seen a vanity license plate that reads:

PRMSKPR

“Prom Skipper,” I thought yesterday. That makes sense in a way. This guy was too good for his prom and he’s proud of it because he’s extreme or something.

So I saw it again this morning and thought about it some more. Prom Skipper? Why would anyone put that on their plate?

“Ohhhhhh. Promise Keeper.” That makes more sense. Remember those guys?

Then I thought, “Wait a minute. Knowing what the plate is really supposed to be now, my first reading is probably still applicable.” It’s a two-fer!

Shave My Yeti is a good way to spend a minute or two. Polartec is cool.

So, being that all toys are made in China, do kids in China have insane amounts of toys?

It seems to me that Chinese factory workers, breathing and molding toxic plastic all day, would be entitled to bring a few home. You know, “Hey, look what we’re running through the line this week.” I imagine that certain people in China have insane collections of American McDonald’s Happy Meal toys and such.

The best restaurants feature full color pictures of some of their specialties on their exterior signage. I may be illiterate but I ain’t about to go hungry.

Seriously, who tricks out a Chevy Cavalier? Oh. That guy.

We need a channel on the satellite or cable boxes that shows me 24-hours-a-day footage of people changing their shower liners. The comedy would never stop.

Who do you think would win in a caged death match? The Snuggle Bear or the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

Both have that annoying giggle so the distracting advantage that would normally be kind of cancels out.

One thing I miss is my Dad’s signature Celebrity & Persons of Note Death Report & Tally. I would call or he would call and one of the first things said would always be: “I’ve got some sad news…”

I became conditioned into not being worried, as most people automatically would with that as the start of a sentence because, eventually, I learned that this was how the regular Celebrity & Persons of Note Death Report & Tally started.

“Guess who died,” he would say.
I would already know the answer because the Innanet tells me news like 2 minutes after it happens but I would always play along and pretend I didn’t know. “Who?”
“You remember that movie with so-and-so?” he would ask.
“Yeah, that guy died?”
“No. The woman who played the mother.”
“Oh, well OK,” and then we would move on.

But Pat Morita, Innanet! Pat Morita’s death would have been a H-U-G-E thing for my Dad to report and he missed it. You don’t get it. H A A A A A A A A A - U U U U G E.

Why Pat Morita? Because Pat Morita is only Mr. Miyagi and Mr. Miyagi is, well, I don’t need to explain, do I? For the kids out there, Mr. Miyagi is only the best part about one of Dad’s favorite movies of all time ever in the history of ever and forever.

Dads have a way of latching on to some of the stupidest movies that they’ll watch over and over when they pop up at random times on cable. Two of my Dad’s clear favorites: The Karate Kid and Die Hard. Me being a Dad for over two years now, my taste in movies should slowly be starting to dull, no? What ever happened to that Police Academy series of movies anyway? That franchise still has some life left in it.

So Dad would have probably made a special phone call, even have left a message on my machine, just to tell me that Pat Morita died. That’s how huge a scoop that would have been.

But oh no, Dad passes first, leaving Mr. Miyagi’s death only to remind me that, not only is Dad gone, but so too is the weekly Celebrity & Persons of Note Death Report & Tally that I never cared much for before but now kind of miss.

I’ve been away for a smidge.

My dad passed away quite suddenly on November 11th, Veteran’s Day, after a lengthy illness. He was 60. The autopsy of his brain will most likely prove he had Multiple System Atrophy (otherwise known as Shy-Drager Syndrome) and not Parkinson’s as his doctor believed. Several years and several professional opinions fluctuated between the two diagnoses.

This run down of Multiple System Atrophy about sums up everything. The name provides the quick definition: Lots of stuff goes lots of wrong. My dad had every symptom in that list.

Nevertheless, his passing was not expected. In the end, I think the dangerously low blood pressure was the immediate cause. My dad had a tendency to not do as he was told and sit in his recliner unless he absolutely needed to get up. I just read that sentence again and it just highlights the absurdity of his condition. Sitting in a recliner all day and not moving is not something a 60-year-old man is supposed to do. My dad’s independence and mental clarity were indirectly responsible for his death. I hate that he ever felt trapped by his own body. I am glad that he never surrendered himself to his worsening condition. If someone with Multiple System Atrophy can die with a blaze of glory, I suppose my dad did just that by getting himself up, using the computer, and shuffling about the place with his walker. He wasn’t supposed to do any of that. He was supposed to just sit there and just watch TV or sleep or watch TV or talk on the cordless phone or eat the lunch and snacks my mom prepared for him every day and placed next to his chair.

Of course, there’s the inevitable caregiver’s hollow that comes out in my mom. I suppose you adjust little parts of your life here and there and then, when you don’t have to make those adjustments anymore, you look back and realize just how much you were doing in your day to help.

My daughter and I got to see my Dad twice in October. The last time with Alisa & Co. Considering that my parents live 6 hours away, it seems odd and strangely destined to have made two trips.

It’s strange to be involved in all of the arrangements for a thing like that. I’ve wondered before how I would ever react to one of my parents passing. Now I know.

I know I shouldn’t feel like a schmuck for not being home on my birthday when he called and left me a message. Why he couldn’t have called me on my cell phone is beyond me. I guess that’s another Dad thing I’ll strangely miss: His confusion over the fact that cell phones can be used for more than just emergencies. Now, I’m afraid to clear my answering machine because it still holds his voice. Maybe I’ll record his message so I can feel better about doing so.

Anyway, my Dad liked to sometimes hop on the computer and e-mail people he knew. I put together a computer for him to use a couple of years ago and he really came a long way on it from having zero experience at the start. He liked the various forwards and attachments he received. I’ll put a few up every now and then when I think of it. His favorites included pictures of animals doing silly things. So, here you go:

Her: Daddy, you get gas?
Me: Yes. What did you do while I was getting gas?
Her: I chewed on my mitten!