There are two reasons not to trust someone—because you don’t know them, and because you do
My dad has been drilling this into me ever since I emerged, gooey and screaming, from my mum’s vagina. 26 years later, we have the same exchange on (at least) a weekly basis:
Dad: There are two reasons why you shouldn’t trust someone. What’s the first?
Me: Dad, I know.
Dad: Well what is it then?
Me: Because you don’t know them.
Dad: And the second?
Dad: Come on, what is it?
Me: You know you’ve been saying the same thing to me almost every day since I was born right?
Dad: Well then you should know. What is it?
Me: Because you do.
Dad: Very good. Want to hear a joke?
When I was a baby my dad used to play Cold Chisel’s “Flame Trees” when he was feeding me my bottle. When I was 18 he caught me belting out an incredibly (out of tune) rendition of the song and a dumbfounded look crossed his face. He shook his head as he left the room muttering, “what the hell have I created?”
My favorite joke
Q: What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants coming over the mountain?
A: Here come the elephants coming over the mountain!
Q: What did Tarzan say when he saw the elephants coming over the mountain wearing sunglasses?
A: Nothing, he didn’t recognize them.
It’s our premiership season
At the start of every football season dad sits before our whole family at the head of the dinner table and sagely announces; “this is our premiership season!” He continues to vehemently say the same thing as our team continues to fail, before changing his tune to, “we can still turn the season around,” which always becomes “if we don’t get any more injuries we can still make the six,” that finally becomes “ah, next year. I can feel it. Next season is our premiership season.”
The media is full of “pinko-bastards” and idiots
As a member of the ‘media’ I’ve had to take this one with a grain of salt, and someone who might from time-to-time be considered a “pinko-bastard” (shhhhh, don’t tell dad!) I’ve pretty much had to close my ears to dad’s rants about the new media. But he does have a point: the media is mostly rubbish and we should all be looking for information from a variety of sources because everyone has an agenda to fulfill which isn’t always in the best interests of information exchange.
How to kick a footy
As dad’s only child I had to fill the double role of “daddy’s little princess” moonlighting as his favorite son. On the weekends I visited dad’s house he’d always take me down to the local high school and we’d kick around a football or a soccer ball or play cricket on their field. NOTE: Despite this, I am still absolutely hopeless at sport. Mum says I run like a girl.
Be happy and healthy
Once you are these two things nothing much else matters, really. I think this is the most correct my dad has ever been.
Make up and hair dye are stupid
My dad thinks women look better without these things and he can’t for the life of him wrap his head around why anyone would favor a made-up look over au natural. I’m pretty sure he hated both my Gwen Stefani pink hair phase and later my Christina Aguilera “Come On Over” look where the entire underside of my hair was coloured fire truck red. Yes, I was a dynamic youth.