Family Fun Hour

So I talked to my dad last night and many a’thing fell into place on why I am the way I am. He went to a restaurant in Utah a few weeks ago and asked the waitress for some directions. She had to go ask someone and kept forgetting before she got back to my dad’s table. This happened three or four times (remember, this is Utah, where everyone’s related so everything runs a little bit slower) so finally he said that if she got him the info he would give her his autograph.

He told her he was Mike Love of the Beach Boys.

Now, as much as I love my dad, he looks nothing like Mike Love. But again, this is Utah, so the waitress bought it. And he autographed something for her (a napkin, I think), saying something like “Beach Boys Tour 2005, love Mike Love.” Some poor little Mormon waitress in Utah is probably still gloating to her friends about this.

So apparently going to hell runs in the family.