i hadda really good dad once
yeah sure i know you know
gee i was really lucky
cos i seen some other dads in action
violent little twerps
or
distant aloof patriachs
or
drunken stupid brutes
my dad was none of these
my dad was like realer than fucking real
when i cut my eye open
and the quack was stitching my head back up
when my dad arrived
and took my hand
it was suddenly alright
d’ya know what i mean
my dad walked in and it was ok
in his always slightly ill fitting clothes
and his cheerful cockerney accent
my dad was larger than life and everybody loved ‘im
he shoulda had his own tv show
he had everyone laughing all the time
god i know i told you that
but its his birthday
and i aint seen him for 33 years now
and i wish he could put in an appearance
for a bit of guidance or whatever
he was always right
” watch those geezers…theyre gonna cheat ya!” (they did)
“dont drive like that..you’ll crash!” (i did)
” if ya ever need something…i’m yer man!” (he was)
etc
he was pretty cheerful
and he rarely succumbed to the blues
he made do with what he had
and he didnt lust after fame or wealth or position
he was content with his lot and he worked six days a week
he did lots of stupid dopey things
especially when it came to anything to do with painting
eg housepainting or respraying yer car
my dad had a morris major which he re did in every colour
if a fly or spider was on the wall or car
they were permanently a part of it
my dad was a bit impatient
he didnt like instructions
he didnt like waiting for paint to dry
he didnt like my long hair or my noisy guitars
he did like ginger bakers drum solo on blind faith however
my dad loved piano drums n trumpets..just like the old days
my dad liked boogie woogie piano
my dad loved driving n driving
my dad didnt like exercise at all
my dad was hooked on cigs since he was a kid
he smoked benson n hedges n 20 rothmans please
my dad didnt like brown clothes
he liked white socks not black ones
my dad did not like healthy food
my dad liked to give gifts but not receive em
my dad loved christmas day
my dad always had a fresh woody old spicey smell
my dad only donged me a cuppla times..n i really deserved it
my dad tried to make people feel at home
my dad loved world championship wrestling
my dad didnt like yoko ono or germaine greer
my dad didnt like cowboy movies or john wayne
my dad liked german guys
n scottish guys whom he always called jock
he called welsh blokes taffy
n irish guys paddy
i wonder how they felt about that…or is it a war thing?
my dad fought in ww2
he didnt talk about it much
except that he played piano in the mess hall n at parties
i can fucking see ‘im now
his marine cap on at a jaunty angle
the ever present fag dangling out his gob
a crooked grin
bad teeth
banging out something in f # my dads favourite n only key
a bit of a ladies man
a bit of a jack the lad
a bit of a bodgie
a bit of a softie
how lucky was i to have an old man like that?
one of the good guys
he could speak a bit of french
he was good with a camera n dark rooms
he could draw n paint n he loved music
“son…marry anyone…AS LONG AS SHE LOVES MUSIC!”
yeah my dad was a diamond geezer before they invented em
a good samaritan
a nice neighbour
a generous bloke
jesus he made me feel safe
nothing bad was gonna happen
cos my olde dad was here
yeah he drove us through bushfires in the fifties n sixties
fucking great trees flaming n crashing around us
but i lay in the back of our morris minor (before the major)
and felt that he must somehow know what he was doing
he just “flattened the bastard” “pedalling like the clappers”
and we zigzagged down those burning highways
cos we were english in a strange land
and dad wanted to get to bloody melbourne for christmas
dad didnt like snootiness or snobbishness
he ridiculed our rellies graces n airs
he kept you level headed
he was no social climber
he didnt give a toss about the classes
either you were a good bloke or you werent
he hated blokes who were “slow to get their bleedin’ wallets out”
and he paid up for most people most times
jesus i guess hed be like 86 or 87 today
i dunno
i dont think he woulda liked old age that much
especially as he didnt keep fit
i often envy him
in a way
his sudden exit
no hospitals
no quacks
no dementia or cancer
bang
he just checked out quick
no regrets for him i guess
the good die young
what wozzie…52.. 53?
ok
thats enuff
everyone should worship their dad the way i worship mine
if theyre good fathers then youre set for life
its a huge gig
n most fall short of the mark
old les kilbey tho
he was one good daddy!