The Cooper Street Relic

Just another blog from The Republic Of Hespeler

To my Dad a good joke or story was as important to life as food or drink. He loved to tell story’s and to have a good time, and he had many a good time. Many people say i have a warped sense of humor and can pull a story out of anything, but in comparison to my old man i am just a novice. I saw him laugh at a John Wayne movie, i saw him bust a gut watching Harvey Korman and Tim Conway perform a routine on the Carol Burnett show. He could repeat jokes from the likes of Lenny Bruce to Richard Pryor and to him humor had no boundaries.
And the story’s and thoughts he would come out with were classics, but to me they were as new as the rain or snow that fell outside. Sure they were probably stolen from someone else or from a book he had read but the way he told them made them his. I have learned many one liners, jokes, groaners and weird thoughts on life from my Dad and while they are not always funny to everyone, they are at least interesting and would leave his party guests snickering under their breath. But is that not what life is about? Keeping your friends and acquaintances laughing and thinking all at the same time? Even as he was dying he kept a sense of humor, he pulled me over to his side and indicated that he needed to say something to me and as i got closer to his mouth he whispered” get off my air hose you arsehole”. I could only laugh and i am sure my family thought i was nuts, but i know that everytime i write a story or post a stream of weird thoughts he is laughing and telling anybody that is near him up above ” I taught him everything he knows, and he still doesn’t know anything”

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2 thoughts on “Why i Do this

  1. Marion Beattie says:

    lol, your dad was definitely a unique individual… I remember going to your house (the new one) on Cooper Street and your dad was always laying on his bed watching tv. On the New Years Eve that Hespeler was forced to become part of Cambridge, everyone was at my parents home on Rife Avenue… come midnight, your dad took his gun out onto the front porch and started firing up into the sky. When he was done with the gun he took a big bite out of his styrofoam hat he was wearing for the “special occasion”.. your father always made me laugh 🙂

    1. Do i remember those nights. The shooting of a shotgun was a tradition…ummm i think i have a story to write on that.

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