My Dad is a Freaking Badass

My Father: Badass Extraordinaire

     

     On November 29, 1945, a pair of twin boys were born on in a hospital on the campus of Auburn University. Both boys were not given a very high chance of survival, but as the world would soon come to find out, neither one of them cared much for odds; what was going to happen was going to happen regardless of any speculation on someone else's part. The twins were given the names of Bob and Bill. The former would go on to be a famous tennis player, the latter would not only become my father, but also one of the few true Badasses remaining in the world today.

    Like most Badasses, my father spent most of his early childhood being a rebellious pain in the ass to his parents, not realizing at the time that the pain he was causing them would swiftly be returned to his own ass through the blunt instrument of force known as my grandfather's right hand (sometimes it also came in the form of his belt, a switch, or my grandmother's hairbrush). While this method of child-rearing (no pun intended) might be considered draconian in today's society, it was successful in quickly taming my father's rebellious nature. However, no amount of spankings could ever douse the burning fire that was my father's spirit; his inner Badass lived on.

     My father was lucky that his rebellious nature was treated with such an instrument, for it helped get him through high school. He was even able to go to college, and soon found himself attending North Georgia College and State University:  a military school.  While going to school as an Army cadet, he found his college career put on hiatus due to a minor skirmish known in the Far East known as the Vietnam War. (You may have heard of it at some point...you may also have heard of words like "napalm," "Charlie," and "Lyndon Johnson.") After training to jump out of perfectly good airplanes with nothing but a parachute that was a little bit larger than a tube sock, my father wound up flying helicopters. He spent two happy years piloting Hueys over the jungles of Vietnam, while the Viet Cong shot at him from the brush with their silly little AK-47's. He has told me once or twice of the fond memories of watching tracer bullets whiz by his helicopter while being fired from some unseen point on the ground below. 

I'm sure this brings back memories of the good old days...

     After completing 2 years of said bullshit, my father was able to leave Vietnam, retiring from the Army at the rank of Captain. He returned to school was was able to graduate with a Bachelor Degree in History. He went on to work for the Georgia Department of Natural Resources, ultimately becoming the superintendent (not to be confused with Super Nintendo) of Hofwyl Broadfield Plantation State Historic Site, one of several Georgia state parks. He lived on the site in a house in the middle of the woods, his only companions being his trusty dog Bismarck, an Airedale who didn't put up with any shit from local wildlife, and his 5 pound Man-Beard.

Possible photograph of my dad that I found on Google?

What raccoon would ever want to tangle with this cold-blooded killer?

     After subsisting on a diet of beer, cheddar cheese, and raw bacon for a number of years, my dad decided that something must be done about the cooking. (Badasses rarely have the patience for cooking) One day, he sent his beard out into the wilderness to search for a mate. His beard returned with a woman named Gwen who, despite the somewhat confused look on her face, (you'd look confused, too, if a beard led you to a house in the middle of the woods) had an award-winning smile and a knack for cooking the roadkill that Bismarck would bring to the doorstep. After making sure that she understood the rules of the house (no one was to sit in Bismarck's chair), he proceeded to get her roaring drunk before finally asking her to marry him. She agreed, and the two were happily married. 

     It would be four years later that they would welcome their first child into the world, a somewhat deformed, half-retarded son named "Spludge." Lucky for the boy, who wasn't even strong enough to deadlift a math book, his mother's maternal instincts kicked in and she protested the name until they both agreed to settle for "Patrick." From then on, the man dedicated his life to providing for his family. He sold his motorcycle, shaved his beard, joined the Army National Guard, gave up drinking, and worked 6-7 days a week to make sure that his wife and son could have happy lives. (It's hard for a Badass to part with his motorcycle) He spent time making sure that his son was behaving himself in school, working hard on his studies, and staying inside the lines when he colored. He put money aside for his son's future, hoping that by some miracle of God and science his son might one day be able to pass the SAT. Through a combination of luck and his father's no-bullshit agenda for success, the son was able to not only pass the SAT, but also go to college. He was able to find other people like him in the Theatre program of the local university and went on to play some widely renowned background roles in several straight-to-DVD feature films. (though he still can't stay in the lines when he colors...)

     After making sure that his son had a place to go in college, my father decided to retire from his job, regrow his beard, buy a motorcycle, and ride off into the sunset.  Legend has it, that some evenings in the forests of Georgia, when the moon is full, you can hear his snores from some unknown location. (Unless he has come home to take a shower, change clothes, or go to church).

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It is very difficult to describe how much of a Badass my father is, but I have tried to compile a list of some of the things he has done that fall into that category:

-He really did fight in the Vietnam War.

-He raised me on a diet of spicy food that impresses most Koreans.

-He really flew a helicopter in Vietnam.

-He really jumped out of perfectly good airplanes.

-He taught me how to hike, camp, and canoe as a child.

-He has ridden his motorcycle from Georgia to Alaska, and back.

-He has read more books than I have hairs on my head.

-He has been to a shitload of different countries.

-He has ridden the Bicycle Ride Across Georgia multiple times.

-He has been on canoe trips that have lasted for weeks and crossed multiple state lines. One time he even ran into a friend of mine while on one of these trips.

-He drives a Honda Element: a car that only a true Badass can drive.

-He has lived his entire life with a genetic disease. I've never heard him complain about it once.

-He has made countless sacrifices for my mother and me, including waiting an extra year to retire so that I could graduate from high school with my childhood friends. 

-He sometimes spends weeks at a time in the woods.

-Despite having his own health problems, he took care of my grandfather as he was dying of cancer, and now regularly goes to see my grandmother to make sure that she is cared for.

-He can sing and dance in Korean. http://www.facebook.com/patrick.rivers.33

-He has the patience to search for signs of a deer, get up at the asscrack of dawn, shoot the deer, drag it back to his truck, and haul it off for meat. I once saw him cut a living deer's throat. Holy shit.

Despite all the joking I have included in this post, I can truthfully say that my dad is a true Badass. He has worked hard so that I might have a few extra opportunities in life. He is a great father, and in an age of corruption and decaying morality, my dad has stayed strong and continued to set an example for me of how a real man should behave. He has served his country and been exposed to a lot of messed up shit, some of it stuff that I think no human should have to see. H continues to serve his family and community. As a teacher in the US, I taught so many children who never even knew their fathers because they had bailed on them before they were ever born. They had no male figures to look up to in their lives, and I found some of them trying to fill that gap with teachers from their school...others held resentment towards any sort of male authority. I am so thankful to be lucky enough to have the father that I have and on this day, his 67th birthday, I want to take this opportunity to say thank you to my dad for all of your love, support, and sacrifice. The world would be a better place with more men like you in it, and I thank you for continuing to set a good example for us all. I love you and hope that you have a Happy 67th Birthday!

Patrick