So, working through the list of “my words” in no particular order, we come to the above. Let’s be honest, we all have some form of daddy issue and mommy issue, and I’m interested in examining them – I like poking into just about anything, if you haven’t guessed, but y’all do too.
Full disclosure: I had a dad. And “Daddy” was what I called him most of our time together, but after many years during which we didn’t see each other, I saw him at about age 38 and he was Dad.
Dad was a poet and a teacher. His poetry was never published, though I have his manuscript and will find some way to set his words free. Maybe here – I think many of you [unviewable friends who may eventually find this space] would appreciate them.
I also have an article he wrote while teaching in Japan, called “Shakespeare’s Collaborative Audience.” But that’s all I know about it, written in pen on the cover of a slim-spined paperbound booklet published in 1991. (He sent me the booklet, but not the English version of the contents … he was really good at the teaser. I also have a manuscript he wrote about old movie serials. The lady-tied-to-the-train-tracks stuff that used to precede movies. It’s exhaustive. Think about it.)
I only have it in Japanese, and I can’t read Japanese. If anybody wants to help – I’d gladly pay for the work – I’d love to get it translated. By someone who loves Shakespeare, and Japanese.
So, he was:
– a master of the spoken and written word (he worked in radio, too)
– passionate in word and deed
– four times married, and endlessly philandering
– lazy, in his way – he never lifted a finger in his own house, except to snap.
– in his view, a devoted, misunderstood, underappreciated parent. In mine, a fascinating, adored god who liked to swing the belt WAY too much.
So, pretty good material as Daddy issues go, right?
To be continued …