Michael D. Davis.

In the last couple of weeks, I have been driven to the brink of insanity, then slowly backed away from the precipice of that nutty abyss. All because of my Father, that old S.O.B.

Ya see, my Father retired a few years back. At first, it was awful, for the rest of us anyway, but then his friend retired too. With his buddy retired as well, the two of them could entertain each other, doin’ whatever it is they do. Tinkerin’ with this tractor, mowin’ that yard, shootin’ that squirrel, buyin’ this old hunk of junk because it could be made into a different kind of hunk of junk. I honestly don’t really know what they do; I just know they ain’t botherin’ me.

But then, two weeks ago, his buddy went on safari. Yeah, safari, apparently my dad’s friend thinks he’s Colonel Mustard or somethin’. So he goes off to kill Pumba, and my rather is left with nothin’ to do except annoy.

I could say my Father havin’ nothin’ to do for two weeks was hard on us all, but let me be honest, It was a true horror, simply the worst for me. I’ll get some argument on that for sure from the other two, but my statement is backed up by one simple fact, I’m always home.

Ma and my sister escape the old man by goin’ off to work. Me, I go to a meeting for an hour, then I’m back, I go grab some lunch, then I’m back. My Father greeted me every time at the door like a puppy whose owner was bringin’ home a new bone to chew on. He always said the same things, “Where ya been?” “I know you’re up to somethin’?” And if I was carryin’ anything, and I mean anything at all, he’d say, “Ya get me one?” I could’ve walked in holdin’ a severed head, and he’d say, “Ya get me one?”

When my Father and his friend are out, I don’t know, changin’ spark plugs, my Father couldn’t care less how I’m doin’, where I’m doin’, or if I’m doin’. But when he’s home and bored, about every ten minutes, he pokes his head in the door to ask what I’m doin’.

After about a half a dozen times of this, where my answer is usually the same, he’ll just walk into the room, not say a word, stand right in front of the TV, and just watch whatever I have on. After a couple minutes, he’ll just walk right out again. I’ve dubbed this parlor trick the haunting because it’s like livin’ with the world’s most annoying poltergeist. The poltergeist won’t throw a piano or leave a dead body in your kitchen, but when you’re in the middle of watchin’ a British game show, he’ll come in, watch for a few minutes, then float back out.

I believe he does this to me for fun because he can’t do it to my sister. Have you ever seen a lion attack a gazelle? If he were to ever walk into my sister’s room and just watch her TV for a few minutes, he’d be prayin’ to be a gazelle.

I tried to help fill his days here and there. One day I was goin’ out to run a few errands, stop at the library, pop in the bank, usual stuff. If I was alone, I wouldn’t have taken more than 20 minutes. But with the old man, it took almost two hours. From the way he talked people’s ears off, he must’ve been starved for conversation.

The worst of it happened a few days later, I once again had him along in the car. And I don’t know how it happened. Honestly, it was amazing how he went about it. Because ya see, at the beginning of the conversation, we were talkin’ about his driver’s license, then somehow, by the time we got across town, he was talkin’ about the JFK assassination.

I don’t see a route from one subject to the other, but the man magically made it happen. “Ya see,” he said, “not too many could make that shot with a bolt action rifle from that distance, and Oswald was..”

Colonel Mustard is back from his safari now, and the whole family is grateful. It’s back to how it should be. For example, the first time I saw my father today was at around three in the afternoon. I was sittin’ at the stoplight in the intersection down by Hardee’s, and I glance over. My Father and his friend had stopped along the road to talk to the surveyors that had been workin’ in the area. Two thoughts ran through my head. 1. I wonder if he’s steered the conversation towards JFK yet? And, 2. At least he ain’t annoying me.