Father's Day

Woke up cranky as Hell this morning. Stumbled onto the bike, bitched away 350 calories, scarfed the same down in breakfast and went to the folks' place. d and I spent much of the afternoon actually working together on technical projects, which we tend to have trouble with, with no real trouble at all - we put right some wrongs in my dad's brand new kick-ass TV and Bose sound system. True, at one point, I was just holding a connector and the copper wire that made it work simply fell out in protest at being held by such a bone-headed klutz...which meant that the highlight of Father's Day was my dad - my blind-ish-in-one-eye, wheezing dad, on his knees, stripping wire because I, being that *cough, cough* artistic one in the family, had no freakin' idea...pretty much even that the tools, the technology or the wisdom to do such a thing even existed.

After that, it all went swimmingly, and we solved the other issues relatively easily and without, it should be noted, even once tearing each other's heads off.

"I think it was a waste of a thousand pound," pronounced dad. It's difficult to argue with a man who's going deaf when he claims a new sound system was a waste of cash, or a man who has wet macular degeneration in his eye when he argues that a new TV was a bit of a rash purchase. But really of course, he was just focussing his anger at his own situation on a couple of bits of equipment that don't do what he hoped they would, which was to make that situation irrelevant.

Over dinner (full UK Sunday dinner - meat, potatoes, veg, gravy, Yorkshire pudding), I asked the question that no-one who knows me will understand my asking. My dad said yes.
Oddly enough, I was gonna tell you all about that if it worked. Gonna tell you tonight, I mean. But somehow - forgive me, I know I promised full disclosure - that just doesn't feel right. Not now. Not yet. Needless to say it'll make very little sense to a whole lot of people, and some people will think it makes me the rankest of hypocrites. I don't really care about that, but just for tonight, it's not something I want to go into - not least because it's 11.15 and I have to be up in a small number of hours.

Went to the movies with Lee tonight, to see a filmed version of the National Theatre production of Frankenstein by Danny Boyle. A more perverse and yet appropriate Father's Day entertainment it would be hard to find, and we both left the movies with many cogs a-whirring about who we are, what we are, what that means and the like. As you might remember from the Perfection Pill entry, those are questions which are already whizzing through my brain at the minute. I really need to write something, but the ideas are still milky and coalescing as to what that something is.

And right now, my brain is shutting down. Tomorrow - the city.