A Man and his Son

“Now this is the story all about how,
My life got flipped, turned upside down,
And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there,
I’ll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air.”

I began writing this on Fathers Day weekend 2011. I had to stop because it seemed wrong to talk about my dad the way I would need to if I was going to be as honest as I have been about anyone else I have written about. I labored on many things I wanted to write…things I wish I had said to him before he passed away. I wish I could tell him that as a child I feared him like he held my life in his hands. I wish I had told him how many times I cried myself to sleep because I didn’t live up to his expectations of me. I also wish I knew how he felt of his son that grew to be a corporate trainer for the largest bank in the

, somewhat respected by his peers but most definitely loved by those he has trained over the many years. The son that still wishes he could hear his dads’ voice one last time…

Below are just a few of my Father/Son memories. Please take them with a grain of salt and try not to judge either of us too harshly.

· One birthday I remember having a bowling party. It is the only party I remember from my childhood. I am sure there were others, but this one is the only one I remember. I am sure the idea of a bowling party was another of my adolescent attempts to bond with my dad. He was an avid bowler and had aspirations of going pro I seem to remember. I got a Spiderman doll (they are now known as action figures and I am sure this is one of the reasons the name changed. It was made by a company called Mego and it was cool. The costume had a snap inb the back so it could be removed (for what purpose I have no idea). I was so excited. My fascination with superheroes began at an early age…don’t judge me. I remember coming home and being so excited to show my dad (he was, as most of my memories of him began, absent and completely uninterested) when I got home from Bird Bowl. I remember him looking at Spiderman, then at me and lastly towards my mom. He locked eyes with her and said, “Isn’t that just wonderful. Now he plays with dolls too” and walking away. I was devastated. I don’t know the time frame, but I know I buried Spiderman in the back yard. I never saw him again and neither of my parents mentioned it again. I doubt anyone noticed.

· I played football as a boy. Not because I wanted to. Not because it was fun or I craved the cheers of the fans and other parents. I did it because it was supposed to make him happy. There was a boy on one of the teams I played on that was pigeon toed. I don’t remember his name just that he was the quarterback and my dad called him “the pigeon toed faggot”. I had no idea what the last word was, only that my dad seemed to take huge glee in saying it. More than once he commented I should be the quarterback and how PTF was a huge “waste of a uniform”. I also remember one day at the concession stand after a game calling PTF by the only name I k new him by and telling him to get in line behind my. I also remember him punching me in the face and my lip getting split and bleeding a bunch. Lastly I remember telling my dad how my lip had been split on the field by a cheap shot and him telling me next time to hit back and “take the penalty”. Advice to live by for one and all.

· I remember the money situation was pretty shitty after my parents divorced. My mom worked sporadically when I was younger, but had to get a full time job after dad left. She wasn’t trained for much and got a job working for a friend of the family answering phones. I remember all my friends had a VCR and I knew my mom couldn’t afford to get us one. I met my dad at a bowling alley, as I mentioned he fancied himself a few games away from joining the PBA Tour at any moment, to ask for a little fatherly help. He gave me the money and wrote “LOAN” on the subject line of the check. “If it is worth having, it is worth earning” was the quote I remember but it might just be revisionist history on my part. I am sure I never paid him back and I am also sure he remembered that for many, many years after.

· I remember sitting at his townhouse watching Remington Steele one evening on one of my rare visits with him and my first step mom. They were both out (bowling I am sure) and he came home first. He asked if my step mother was home yet and I told him no. I never stopped to think that he would have seen her car if she was there. He went in the kitchen and got a beer. He never drank in my recollection, and certainly not beer. He had a couple sips and handed the bottle to me, his under-aged, and 17 year old son. “When she gets here you might want to stay down here for a little while” and he went upstairs. She arrived shortly there after and I wondered if I was gonna get another beer and a second really cool pep talk. What I got was an earful of how he was a piece of shit and a no good blahblahblah. This along with some crashing and a whole lot of banging drawers was to follow. I am not sure what time I went upstairs to bed but I was awakened early the next morning by my dad. He told me we were going to “Gramma Cole’s” and needed to hurry so we could be gone before Nancy, my soon to be ex step mom, returned. I later found out my dad was sitting at a 4 way stop making out with his secretary (and soon to be step mom #2) when step mommy #1 pulled up behind him on her way to watch him bowl. Oh the humanity. This situation, along with the fact that my dad married Nancy after cheating on my mom with her while playing softball might be the motivation behind Steve Rogers Rule #2. Never Cheat. It also might account for my total lack of interest in any sport other than hockey and UFC.

· I remember when I went to my dads house when I was struggling with the decision of whether I was going to divorce my first wife. He was retired from his job and was still married to step #2. He was pretty sick and I would bet dollars to donuts the reason he put her through nursing school was so she could take care of him when he got older. Quite a thoughtful man, this one. He told me he never liked my wife and always thought I was making a mistake “settling for her”. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was, to that point in my life, the only applicant that had made it to sexual portion of the job interview. Thankfully she was not the last.

· I remember sitting in my fathers car and a Phil Collins song came on. As a kid I remembered my father singing songs and I was pretty excited because I knew all the words to “Take a Look at Me Now’, the song Phil was nominated for an Academy Award for. My father asked me if I was upset they didn’t let Phil sing his own song at the Academy Awards and I said I was. I was trying to sound like I had an opinion and was excited it seemed we were going to have a dialog about current events in the entertainment industry. He laughed and said, “Fuck him”, and that ended the conversation.

· I remember my father always going to Las Vegas. He went a few times a year and gambled A LOT. He was such an addict that when he was in Vegas I had to go online for him and call him with the lines and his bookies “TIPS TO SUCCESS” for the weeks football games from his website. I remember asking my dad why he needed this when he was in Vegas and you can bet on everything from a prize fight to if a dog crossing the street in rush hour traffic would make it or not. I don’t remember the exact reply but I bet it ended with him saying if I didn’t want to help all I had to do was say so and the line going dead. I know I probably had to call him back and I was forgiven.

· I remember when I came to him house in Florida after his early retirement from a “Big Brown” parcel delivery company. He was pretty ill and he told me a story how he was sitting in his recliner one day with socks on because his feet were cold. He pulled one off and asked my step mom, the nurse, if the black big toe on his foot was a problem, pointing at it on his naked foot. She exclaimed he was an asshole for not saying something earlier and to get in the car as it needed to be seen by an emergency doctor right away. He told her it wasn’t a big deal and tried to sock up and continue watching competitive water go carts or some such horseshit on the Deuce he had a “small wager” on the out come of. He was made to go to the hospital and lost his foot a piece at a time to gangrene and sepsis.

· I remember the last time I saw my dad before he passed away. He told me he was proud of the man I became. He cried that day and I don’t think I ever saw that before. He loved me. No football, divorced, not-paying him back for the VCR, playing with dolls, I can tell you that brought a tear to my eye and still does as I write it today. He was my dad. For better or worse.

He never said he was sorry for anything in his life that I can remember. He was a stubborn man, somewhat selfish and definitely self absorbed. He would say things and mean them. He was brutally honest and was not know for holding his tongue. He was detached and stayed away from things that made him feel any way he didn’t want to feel. The apple and the tree, sir. The apple and the tree.

I will always wonder if you were happy with the choices you made and the things you said, or didn’t say more often that not. I will always love you Mr. Cole…and I will always be iamnotmrcole@gmail.com.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

“Well the years they passed so slowly
I thought about him everyday
what would I do, if we passed on the street
would I keep running away

in and out of hiding places
soon I’d have to face the facts
we’d have to sit, down and talk it over
and that would mean going back

they say that time is a healer
and now my wounds are not the same
I rang that bell with my heart in my mouth
I had to hear what he’d say

He sat me down to talk to me
he looked me straight in the eyes

he said:

You’re no son, you’re no son of mine
You’re no son, you’re no son of mine
When you walked out, you left us behind
and you’re no son, you’re no son of mine”

I Love and miss Patrice O’Neal.Please enjoy http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeCMCJc5-jg

3 comments on “A Man and his Son”

KimmiRoRo Feb 1, 2012

great read Tom…I don't think your dad is all that different from a lot of the dads of that generation.
R13 Jun 2, 2015

Wow. This was really powerful. This really went to the core, and kind of inspired me to do something like this.
twc Jun 2, 2015

Something like what? Be a bad father??? Lol. If you mean write I can totally see that and I would love to read it ?