With nowhere else to go . . .

On November 13th . . .

11/9: Remembering Pop

I never called my father "Pop".  Well, I tried a few times, but he never liked it & always discouraged me from doing so.  He called his father "Pop" & we left it at that.  However, when thinking of a title for this post I felt "Remembering Dad" was overused and sort of mundane, so I went with Remembering Pop.  The 11/9 prefix marks the date he passed away, November 9th 1988.  I've had many ups & downs since my father left my life and times have not always been easy.  But instead of mourning (which I've done too much of) I've chosen to again remember the happiness & comfort the guy brought to my life.

Comics were always a point of interest for me since I was very little and I enjoyed hearing about the funny strips & adventure stories my Dad would read in his youth.  One of his favorites was Popeye and I always remember the story of my father winning a chalk statue of the spinach-eating sailor at a local carnival.  I don't recall what year he got it, but he was very young & while he and my grandparents lived in Brooklyn, where he was born.

When I first learned of this cheaply-made treasure (which I would surely covet if it still existed), it had long been gone & my father had no photo of it.  He described it though as being completely white with hints of blue & red.  In making the accompanying drawing to this text, I referenced several photos of carnival statues of E.C. Segar's sea-faring creation and found nearly all to show him rolling up his right sleeve and ready to kick some ass.  I made some slight changes, particularly to his face, and kept in mind the type of paint style these Midway totems possess.  Representative of many of these depression era goodies, I tried to make him nicked & battered, but still ready to fight.  

My father's statue is long gone but its story is still around.  That is often more powerful than the real thing.