For Matthew Ziegler (1920-2001)
Take One: How he teaches me what’s funny
My father shows me a comic strip he keeps folded up in his wallet. As I scan the four captionless panels, he grins with anticipation:In the first panel, a portly schlub wearing a bowler hat catches his dog peeing on the couch. In the second panel, the schlub scolds the dog. In the third panel, the schlub and the dog are outside and the schlub is peeing against a tree while the dog watches. In the fourth panel, the dog is once again peeing against the couch, but now he is standing on his hind legs, holding his penis with his front paws.My father is immensely relieved when I can’t stop laughing.
Take Two: Alone amidst a crowd
At the racetrack, my father stands with his Racing Form and pencil as the clock ticks down to post-time, handicapping the next race on past performances while following the “smart money” as the odds change on the electronic board. Even though he is standing still, occasionally someone will swerve off course and brush him, breaking his concentration. “Why does this keep happening?” he asks me, and I reply that it’s his magnetic charm.
Take Three: How he does every single time he goes to the track or a casino
“I broke even.”
Take Four: Always flush
My father has never made much money, but he always has a roll in his pocket, and he peels off the cash—bills neatly fronted—as if he is putting money into a pot knowing he has the winning hand.
Take Five: How he likes his coffee
Dark, very dark. He opens the wrong side of the milk container and lets a few drops dribble into the coffee—a technique he learned from his mother (who didn’t realize it was the wrong side).
Take Six: What annoys him about Tony Bennett and Band Leaders
The way Tony points at someone offstage and smiles.The way band leaders drown out the vocalist. He tells me he shared this complaint with a band leader sitting next to him on a flight back from Vegas. The band leader shook his head and replied, “I know.”
Take Seven: What annoys him about restaurants
When you can only order a la carte, or they require you to make your own salad. I once sent my parents to a place called “From Soup to Nuts,” which is what the dinner included. He loved it.
Take Eight: Here to serve
My father often wears various shades of blue—pants, jacket, shirt. In stores, people assume he works there and approach him with questions. He usually knows the answer.
Take Nine: On his deathbed he invokes John Pizzarelli and Stan Laurel
As I shuffle through his CDs, planning on keeping the volume down so as not to wake him, I hear him call: “Play John Pizzarelli.” A few minutes later, my sister asks me about some mix-up, and I respond as Oliver Hardy: “This is a fine mess you’ve got us into, Stanley.” In a faint voice, from the couch, my father says, “Do the sigh.” “The sigh?” “Yeah.” I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I sigh. “No,” he says, “that’s not it.” The next night I rent a Laurel and Hardy movie—it’s been a long time since I’ve actually seen one—and sure enough, in response to “fine mess,” Stan Laurel sighs, so sweetly. As I do now.
Take Ten: How he says good night
“See you on the next shift.”
(from the working draft of Based on a True Life: A Memoir in Pieces)