In honor of Father's Day . . .

My dad died on December 9, 2005, two days after my birthday. He was one of the smartest, weirdest, quirkiest, most difficult men I've ever known. He understood science and math in ways that I'll never get, but real-world things escaped him.

For example . . .

Tom Evans, on Wedding Attire:

In 1990, I was in my friend Paula's wedding. It took place 2 years after I was in my cousin's wedding, and my mother and I had to go buy my bridesmaid dress for Paula's wedding. Right before we were supposed to leave, Dad asked us where we were going. And the following conversation ensued:

Mom: We're going to buy Sally's bridesmaid dress for Paula's wedding.

Dad: She has a closet full of perfectly good dresses. She doesn't need another dress.

Mom: This is for a wedding. She needs a specific dress for this wedding.

Dad: Why? What's wrong with the ones she has?

Mom: TOM. She cannot wear a dress she owns for someone else's wedding.

Dad: Why not?

Mom: That's just how it is. She is a bridesmaid. She has to wear what everyone else is wearing.

Dad: Wasn't she just in a wedding two years ago?

Mom: Yes.

Dad: So why isn't she wearing the dress she wore in that wedding?

Mom: You can't wear the same dress in every wedding.

Dad: That's a perfectly good dress. Of course she can.

Mom: She cannot wear the dress she wore in Chris's wedding to Paula's wedding. They're completely different dresses. They're completely different colors. She has to look like the rest of Paula's bridesmaids.

Dad: Well, why can't all of her bridesmaids wear the same dress she's wearing?

Mom: You're right, Tom. Paula and Willie can change their entire wedding color scheme just so we don't have to buy your daughter another dress. I'll call them right now.

Tom Evans, on Phone Etiquette:

My dad never, ever, ever answered the phone. He rarely talked on the phone. So you can imagine my surprise when I (his only child) called home one day and he answered the phone.

Dad: Hello?

Sally:  . . . Uh . . . Hi, Dad!

Dad: Little Babe? Is that you?

Sally: Is there someone else who calls you Dad? Is there something you need to tell me and Mom?

Tom Evans, on Getting Dressed for Church:

One Sunday, Mom was on her way out the door for church, when she looked down and realized she'd put her shirt on incorrectly. Dad, by the way, was not attending that morning.

Mom: Well, would you look at that. My shirt's on backward.

Dad: (looks down) My shirt's on backward?

Mom: TOM. YOU AREN'T WEARING A SHIRT.

Tom Evans, on His Love of Cats:

My parents always had cats. They had a couple of dogs, but they loved cats. They had this one cat named Oreo (it was black and white, because my parents were not the most original name-bestowers), and Dad loved taunting this cat. He would get right in its face, wiggle his fingers right in front of its eyes, and yell at it. Later, rinse, repeat, until the cat had had enough and went after him. One of these interludes occurred while I was on the phone with Mom.

Mom: How are you, my sugar?

Sally: I'm fine!

Dad: [in background] Ooop!

Mom: How's work?

Sally: It's good.

Dad: [in background] Ooop!

Mom: Are you busy this week?

Sally: Not really, it's slow.

Dad: [in background] Oooop!

Mom: Tom!

Dad: [in background] Ooop!

Mom: Tom, leave the cat alone.

Dad: Ooop! He almost got me that time!

Mom: TOM!


Tom Evans, on Television Etiquette:

I called home one evening and was talking to Mom. In the background, there was the white noise of the TV, and Mom was getting more and more annoyed . . .

Mom: . . . so then I saw your aunt Connie, and then I

{TONIGHT ON WVVA}

. . . wait a second. [puts phone down]

Tom, turn down the television. [picks phone back up]

So she asked me if I wanted to go to the mall with her, and I said

{A MAN IN PRINCETON CLINGS TO LIFE}

. . . wait a second. [puts phone down]

TOM. Turn down the television. [picks phone back up]

Sorry. I told her I couldn't that day, but maybe we could go to Blacksburg next week. She said

{WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THE UPCOMING MASSEY COAL STRIKE?}

. . . wait a second. [puts phone down]

TOM. TURN DOWN THE TELEVISION. [picks phone back up]

Anyway. Where was I? Right. Anyway, your aunt Connie can't go to Blacksburg next week, she's

{MCCANN FORD!}

. . . Dammit. Wait a second. [puts phone down. stomping a few feet]

TOM. TURN DOWN THE TELEVISION. I CAN'T HEAR. [stomping. picks phone back up]

. . .  I swear to God, he's going deaf. So, no, Connie can't go to Blacksburg, but we think

{THIS WEEK IN SPORTS!}

. . . DAMN. IT. [slams phone down. stomping. television is still loud, then, suddenly, softer.]

Dad: What are you doing?

Mom: I was on the phone.

Dad: So you had to turn off the TV?

Mom: I couldn't hear anything Sally was saying because the television was too loud!

Dad: Well, you could've said something. I would've turned it down.

(By the way, you may have noticed the colors I used. They're in Dad's honor; he was a WVU grad, a lifetime WVU fan, and when he died in 2005, he donated his body to the WVU medical school.)

Ahead of its time

On the topic of technological advances, an episode of Small Interludes:

Jim: So how are you liking your DVR?

Sally: I like it, but I can't get this one thing to work. I can rewind live television, but I can't fast-forward it.

Jim: That's called time travel, and it hasn't been invented yet.

Small Interludes

Some of the most memorable conversations I've ever had occurred between me and my best friend, Jim Small. I was reminded of one tonight, so I'm starting a new special episode: Small Interludes.

Jim and I have many, many hours and years of conversation. There are the heartfelt conversations, the bitchfests, the arguments, the come-to-Jesuses, the Simpsons quote marathons, the Joan quotes (Curtis' very least favorite form of our shared communication, as we become quite loud), the TRL Whoo!, and, of course, No Pronouns.

I don't remember how No Pronouns came about, but at some point, he and I decided we were were going to talk to one another without using pronouns at all. This tortured form of conversation always concerns something inane, and it only goes on for a few sentences at a time, because it's really hard to keep it up for any extended period.

It goes something like this:

Sally: Would Jim Small like to go to the store with Sally Evans?

Jim: Jim Small would like that. Would Sally Evans like to pick Jim Small up?

Sally: Sally Evans can do that. What time would Jim Small like to go?

Jim: Does Sally Evans have an estimated departure time?

Sally: Sally Evans does not. Sally Evans can leave whenever Jim Small would like to. Would Jim Small also like to get something to eat while Jim Small and Sally Evans are out?

Jim: Jim Small would like that.

And so on, until we become weary of trying to keep up with all the pronouns.

TRL Whoo! is not something that can easily be explained, or illustrated in a blog. It was inspired by a Robot Chicken episode, and it consists of saying the last few things you did in a fast and hysterical fashion; then, at the end, you always shriek "Whooo!". Like so:

"OhmygodtodayItotallywenttoworkanddidabunchofstuffandthenIatelunchwithBobandthenIcamehomeand WHOOOOO!"

Finally, there is the String of Mommie Dearest Quotes, which frequently happen (usually with the help of Rhett Anders). We all say certain quotes, and Curtis HATES THIS. I mean HATES.

Rhett goes with either "Tina, get out of that bed" or "I'll tell you what we're gonna do. We're gonna knock down that bitch of a retaining wall, and put a window where a window oughta be."

Jim always favors "Tinaaaaaa! BRING ME THE AXE!" or "You . . . will give me . . . the respect . . . that I am entitled to!"

And, of course, I love the speech she gives at the Pepsi Board of Directors meeting. Because, as we all know: this ain't my first time at the rodeo.

Tonight's activity

On the topic of watching Louis C.K. and Zach Galifianakis this evening . . .

Curtis: Sorry that tonight has turned into "Fat White Guy Comedy Night."

Sally: That's okay. I like them. And not every night can be "British Transvestite Comedy Night." Unfortunately.

Apropos of nothing

On the subject of the World's Oldest Profession:

Curtis: You should see the hookers in Baltimore. They are Class. eee.

Sally: What?

Curtis: I'm telling you, they look like the Crazy Cat Lady on The Simpsons. Only no cats.

Sally: Where on EARTH did this come from?

Curtis: I saw a girl standing on a corner back there [in suburban Fairfax], and whenever I see girls standing on corners by themselves, I think of hookers.

Sally: So, when I'm by myself, standing on the corner in the morning, waiting for the bus--

Curtis: Yup. You're a hooker.