My dad sort of slid feet first into the 21st. century. I remember him being all excited about the year 2000– he had read just enough to worry about all the cars and computers in his beloved General Motors going kaput, or stalling on the highway. He was worried about the security of the United States, after all, the computers hadnt been programmed to switch over to 2 in the thousands place…right?
But once it was all over and we all survived, and he tested to make sure all the devices in his house were working, he settled in, sort of complacent but confused by the intelligence of all the technology around him.
Things had changed a bit too fast for dad, he still expected to know the people in the bank, to be able to pick up vegetables in the grocery store and pop them in his mouth without worrying about food poisoning… he expected things to taste the same, and smell the same…as they had when he was a kid.
The last thing I remember him fixating on was Ginger ale. He’d buy only Canada Dry, because he had seen a commercial that proclaimed they made it with “real ginger.” He’d keep a bottle in the frig “here Gregg, try some of this,its made with real ginger” ( Gregg being my son in law, married to my oldest). He said it reminded him of years back when he used to dig up sasafrass root in the back yard and suck on it, savoring the taste of “root beer”….He actually used to do this with me growing up, and I remember the pungent smell of rootbeer on my hands after handling the piece of root. Dad loved his ginger ale….loved his root beer.
So, today, on the couch, fighting this flu that wont either fully appear or fully go away, instead choosing daily which symptom to rain down upon me, I turned on Top Chef. They were doing a “ginger” quick fire and spoke of the real ginger in canada dry gingerale.
A hundred memories came flooding back, dad at the kitchen table, can of Ginger ale in his hand. “Yep, thats good, thats real ginger. “
I miss him. Thanks Top Chef for bringing that vision into my head today.