Monday, April 18, 2011

Why I Suspect My Father May Have a More Interesting Life Then Me

I have a reasonable advantage over a lot of people in that I actually like my parents. I think they're neat. They're occasionally funny, and they're good at dispensing the love, support and relatively constructive criticism in fairly equal ratios. People generally fear turning into their parents like it is an inevitability beyond their control. Like somehow the ghosts of their parents' shared ideology was going to rape them both physically and spiritually, á la tree demon in Evil Dead 2.


If this is indeed the case, let me be the first to welcome the tree rape revolution. Mum and Dad have set a decent blueprint, and I can be reasonably sure that I can take that inspiration and make a suitable advancement. I refuse to be the rushed-to-theatres-sequel: I will be the critically revered Godfather II. (My siblings, while they have their positive traits, are probably not as awesome as me, and will hence have to settle for being Godfather III's.)

However.

I am comfortable with the idea that I can be the evolutionary upshot to my parents, but I am most certainly not comfortable with the notion that they may already be cooler then me. There is one reason to suspect this, and that is my father's phonebook.

One day, while briefly using my father's phone, I couldn't help but notice one thing: he knew some people with some goddamned interesting names. As we all know, names are hugely important. They shouldn't be, but they are. When I hear somebody has an interesting name, particularly if it's an interesting first name/surname combo, I am shamefully excited to meet that person. Unfortunately, and through no fault of their own, my friend group is a world of Kates and Daves, O'Briens and O'Learys. Simple, homogenous, time-honoured names that say very little about you other then that your parents were Irish and sane. So why does my dad get to know these people and I don't?

The following are a list of the people I actually found in my Dad's phone book, and the lives I imagine they definitely lead.

Kevin Sanquest


Kevin Sanquest is a cartoon astronaut from the 1960's. His cartoon is 15 minutes long, and is the last shred of children's programming of the evening until the television is entirely given over to adult viewing. Kevin Sanquest lives on the moon, and routinely fights to protect it from space aliens and Communists. His favourite food is green vegetables, because they make him big and strong, so he can fight Communists. Every week Kevin Sanquest has a new message for the children of America. He lets them know that they can grow up and be astronauts and fight... space aliens, too.

Dixie Brazil



Dixie Brazil is a transexual showgirl* from the Bronx who rose briefly to prominence in the 1970's with a Carmen Miranda inspired fruit basket routine. Like all good transexuals, she is profoundly insulted to ever be referred to by masculine pronouns. Also like all good transexuals, she spent an inappropriate amount of time with Andy Warhol and Lou Reed. She has some stories to tell, and tells them at her Las Vegas comedy/musical act Dixie Un-Zipped! It has been running for seven years, despite mixed reviews.

*It may interest you to know that the real Dixie is actually a man, and Dixie is bizarrely short for Richard.

Malachy Boohig


Malachy Boohig was the original inspiration for Boo Radley in Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird. He lives in a shed that he built himself, and lives almost entirely on pine nuts and woodland creatures. Having said that, he is on very cordial terms with the woodland creatures, and the pine nuts.

Petr Chovanec

Shhtart wearin' purple

Petr Chovanec is my father's Russian drug and blood diamond dealer, and cut the "e" out of his name the same day he cut his own ear off his face. He is violent and quick-tempered, and admits to being a hopeless romantic. He looks like David Boreanaz, and is one of the 4% of men who look sexy in a wife beater. Coincidentally, he also beats his wife.

3 comments:

  1. For the record, the actual tree rape was in the first Evil Dead. There's no indication that it happened in the second really. More that it was just straight up possession...I feel like that much more of a perv for this statement, but the world needs to know! Lula rules, like a finely crafted straight edge etc.

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  2. I should know better then to dabble in cultural references that I have only a cursory knowledge of. Shame on me.

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  3. Like that's ever stopped you... Incidentally, Google informs me that Mr. Sanquesto does exist in Cork. I also think that Petr Chovanec is your father's real name before he defected to the West in the 1970s. The slight Slavic rounding of vowels I detected in his speech places him somewhere in the Urals.

    And shame on you for abusing Alan Moore so.

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