I was talking tonight about some of the conversations I had with my father in the months before he got sick and passed away... One night, I was watching a movie about growing up in the '50s (which he did). He came and sat in my room and told me about the time he met James Brown in a recording studio in Cincinnati one day, back when James was recording "race records." Then another day, when I was listening to Dean Martin (yeah, I listen to Dean Martin... wanna make something of it?), and he came in and we proceeded to have a long discussion about the Rat Pack and Dean and Sammy (Davis, Jr.). And there was one Saturday morning when I was watching a Jerry Lewis movie that had (jazz drumming legend) Buddy Rich in it... I hollered for him and he came in and watched the rest of the movie with me... and we laughed... and laughed... I always loved old Jerry Lewis movies, and he knew it, too... He asked me if I ever thought that maybe I grew up in the wrong decade and I told him that yeah, in fact, I did. But y'know, if I had then most likely he wouldn't have been my dad (but I betcha we would have been good friends).
I felt kinda crappy for a while after he died, because I thought I didn't get enough "good time" with him, but I am realizing that I actually had a lot of "great time" with him... It makes me miss him a lot more, and it tends to get me sad, but y'know...