Wally

Can you believe this man is 70? Incredible, I know. We were lucky enough to have Wally and his wonderful wife Nancy visit us for his birthday. We managed to sandwich a surprise birthday party at Nib in between many crossword puzzles, jumbles, and a lamb being born. It is always great to see them.

But as I've said many times, this blog is about how I see things, and I have in front of me a wonderful opportunity to talk about my father-in-law. So I will. We should start at the beginning, and by the beginning I mean the year 2000.

I met Nancy at Barnes & Noble. She actually worked there for a while before I talked to her, mostly because she was intimidating. She was tall, beautiful, obviously strong, and gave off the vibe that said "if you are a man, go away." So away I went. Which is why I didn't fully get the message when she started coming on to me. Plus I have self-confidence issues, but that's a subject for another place than this one. Anyhow, once the message became obvious (I mean she was coming over to watch pro-wrestling, for God's sake!) we were inseparable. Then came the fun part.

Yes, meeting the parents. All I really knew was that Nancy yelled at her Mom at least once per phone conversation, and that she always talked to her Dad first. And that she was an only child. A beautiful, wonderful, only daughter of a man who was 41 when she was born. So I expected him to be conservative in just about every way. Just to make things more interesting, when I met him I probably looked something like this:



And I bet when he first laid eyes on me he wished I was in fact walking away with a plastic bag and a blanket or whatever else I needed in order to go in the opposite direction. But he was very nice to me. Why, I'll never know for sure. My best guess is that he could intuitively tell that his daughter, whom he loves as much as a father can love a child, was truly happy. So he gave me a chance. And then Kat and Corey got married and I inexplicably melted down at their wedding. After a (deservedly) firm tongue-lashing from both father and daughter, I was given yet another chance. So of course Nancy and I decided to move to Oregon.

This was scary. I knew it was bad because Nancy was scared. Nancy does not get scared. But she was. So I was. Nancy and I sat down with her parents, and Nancy told them all the logical reasons why we were going to Eugene. She was done with the community college in Tucson, she was sick of the heat in Arizona, California was too expensive, and Eugene (with the University of Oregon) made perfect sense. We knew that no matter what, Nancy's mom would resist, so strangely her resistance did not matter. When Wally asked a question, however, we needed to have a good answer.

Wally asked me this: "With my daughter being so far away from me, how do I know she will be safe and taken care of?" Good question. After I finished resisting the urge to poop my pants, I told him (yes, I was looking him in the eye) that I loved his daughter, for real. Not in a high school crush kind of way, but the real thing. And that if something did happen between us I promised I would make sure she was taken care of before going my separate way. And THAT WAS IT! Good enough!

Basically what I'm trying to say is that Wally is the most tolerant guy I've ever met. He just rolls with what life brings his way. He's obviously been through some ups and downs in his life, but he always seems to take it all in stride. It truly is amazing. If some day I have a daughter and she brings home a guy that looks like I did, is not in school like I wasn't, and has a job that most 20-year-olds could attain, I'd probably challenge him to a duel or arm-wrestling or Jeopardy or something! Wally took us all out to dinner. He is a better person than I am.

And a good thing too. Now Nancy and I are happily married, Oliver is a crowd favorite, and we've built a wonderful group of close friends, all because Wally didn't kick my ass when he probably should have. A lot of people probably think it's amazing that Wally looks like he does at 70 (I mean, his hair is the EXACT same now as it was when he was 8). And it is amazing (must be the Native American genes, eh Wally?). But what I think is amazing is that someone can love their daughter enough to put their opinions aside in deference to that daughter's true happiness. I thank you Wally, very much, for being the man that you are. And Oliver thanks you, too.