After never having met my father, I one drunken day, overcame my resentment and called him up. It was a weird experience to say the least. To hear his loud barking Sales Voice try to comprehend the young life he had left behind. I tried to deepen the awkwardness with insanely personal , political and religious questions.
When he couldn’t really answer the pressing question, “How come you never even called in 30 years,” I skipped straight to, “Do you believe in God ?”
This is when he hit me with the sage advice I never got growing up. “Sonny , when a man talks to God they say he’s religious but when God talks to a man they call him Crazy.”
Obviously the old man had never done any psychedelics. Probably never even smoked pot. I think he lived on his cliched witticisms and his barking old gumshoe laugh. See given the choice I have to talk to God, the only father I have left.