Outrage!

Yesterday I asked to borrow my dad’s camera so I can take pictures for my show on Friday…and he said “No.” Can you believe he had the nerve to say no after all I’ve done for him? I mean, I let him wipe my butt when I was a baby and I let him see my vulnerable side when I would throw tantrums and scream “I wish I’d never been born.” He had the luxury of watching me beat Street Fighter II over and over as a kid, stopping him from watching the oh-so-depressing 10 O’Clock News. Or all the cultural events I’d take him to: like the movie “Batman and Robin” or “Six Flags Great Adventure.” I offered to pay but he insisted on it, and ticket takers don’t like being paid in sacks of quarters. I thought he liked the fact that I put him up on a pedestal…sure it was for ridicule but still. And I would always talk about my dad in such positive tones, like “I’m positive my dad is trying to ruin my life!” or “I positively can’t stand him!”

You know what, dad? No more! I see now that you don’t care about my career path. I get that when you would say things like “I don’t understand why you couldn’t have been a doctor” that that’s not an old Jamaican saying, that was [gasp!] the truth. Or when you bared your teeth when I told you I wanted to a writer/comedian – I know now that that wasn’t’ a smile; it was a grimace. Listen here buster, the time for fun and games is over. Now I’ll be calling you less (unless it’s for money, in which case I’ll still call you on the 1st and the 15th…but now we won’t talk about what I need the money for).

Secretly though, I think he’s mad because I didn’t send him a Facebook invite to the show (which is this Friday at 7 PM in Comix’s Downstairs Room – 353 West 14th Street just east of 9th Avenue. Subtlety is my middle name).