Today, my father turns 74 years old. He’s been described in many ways:
- Life of the party
- The single greatest source of profits for Anheuser Busch
- That poor dude who had 4 teenager daughters, a wife and a boatload of Tampax under his roof for about a 3 year span (click on the picture and read the sign he posted at the entrance to our driveway once all his daughters had left the nest)
- Flava Flave (if Flava Flave wore a thermometer to prove how hot it was to tourists during his volunteer work at the local historic site)
- Father-of-the-Bride wedding fashionista
You can see a bunch of other photos on facebook, in an album I’ve titled My Dad.
There are plenty of other moments in his life that I wish I had photos of. But the one that I was most disappointed I couldn’t find for
blackmailing him into improving my share of the inheritance photographic evidence of his craziness was Lotta Flybox. Lotta Flybox (the NC-17 name he came up with) was a creation that sprang to life when his employer had a $1.98 Beauty Contest during a Christmas Party. My dad decided to enter the contest and spent weeks preparing to beat any and all people silly enough to try and compete against him.
However, this past Friday, a family friend — whose own father was a co-worker of dad’s — found the proof of Lotta Flybox in some of her dad’s old photos. Before you look, you should know that he borrowed the two-tone wig from my aunt, along with the bra. My mother made the skirt he was wearing out of some leftover material from a dress she had made for herself. (Editor’s Note: We never saw that dress on mom again.) He had cut out the nipples of the bra, and placed (working!) Christmas lights on either side – red and green for port and star board, as his company was a navy contractor. And he had a camera flash in his boxers so that at the end of his routine, he could turn his back to the crowd, lift the skirt and power up the light so he could “flash” the audience.
My only (?) regret about these photos is that back in the 1970s, the quality of the pictures was somewhat limited, so they are blurry.
On second thought, maybe that’s really a good thing.
Those who wonder where I get my good sense of humor from? That’s right, it’s my mom. Who has put up with dad’s crazy antics for nearly 50 years now.
Happy Birthday, Dad!