My dad Dean and I had some kinda fun for Father’s Day a few years ago. We flew to Ohio to see a 92-year-old quasi-relative named “Uncle Joe”. He’s been a fixture in our family for the last 50 years, visiting at least once a year from the time I was a baby. Everyone in our family has always called him just “Unk”, and he was quite a stud in his day! He always had an opinion about everything, and was legendary for teaching my brothers and I the “right way” to do everything, from eating bread, to driving, to pronouncing the word “poem”. (See answers below!)

Anyway, it was Uncle Joe’s 92nd birthday, so my dad and I made this pilgrimage to go visit and help him celebrate. The guy truly is amazing – he still drives! – and is incredibly sharp and feisty. I will spare you the dozens of stories, but must share ONE with you just so you have the flavor of our trip! After I cooked dinner one night (with heavy supervision from Unk) and then cleaned up the dishes (with equally heavy and vocal supervision from Unk), he RELOADED THE DISHWASHER because I “didn’t do it right.” OMG.

So after three days of Uncle Joe, Dean and I flew home to my place. I got him all tucked into bed at Michelle del Mar, and he slept for almost 9 hours.

Seriously.

THIS from a man who seldom sleeps more than 6! Joe kinda wore us both out.

I actually had to wake him up at 8 am on Father's Day, with a cup o' joe (oops, NO MORE JOE!) - a cup of COFFEE, then he read the paper and lounged and got his massage from 9 -1030. Most delightful, he said.

He respectfully declined my invitation to take him to seafood brunch, as he was a quivering mass of protoplasm in his li'l robe, sitting on my balcony. So I asked him to wave a wand and imagine the perfect lunch in front of him (clam chowder and a salad) and voila, I ordered from down the street and had it in 30 minutes. Soooo, perfect lunch with a nice white wine, oceanside on my balcony. Very restful and just what he needed.

Then I tormented him with some lavish Father’s Day praise (“Thank you for being the best dad ever”), trimmed his eyebrows and ear hair (extra points for THAT) and headed off to the airport to send him home. We chuckled on the way there about our “Unk” escapades, then I slowed down to 5 mph at LAX, we smooched, and I lovingly kicked him out curbside at Southwest. He grimaced at the usual 200 people in LA’s famous airport security line, but got over it and strolled into line - seasoned traveler that he is – smiling and waving as he went.

Watching him walk away, I got all misty thinking it wouldn’t be all that long until HE turned 92. Wow.

Gotta joyride with ‘em while we can.

Answers to the Uncle Joe Challenge:
a) How to eat bread: break off one bite-size piece at a time, butter individually, set down knife and put into mouth. Absolutely no buttering the whole slice at once, and certainly no eating while holding utensils. “Were you raised with dogs?”
b) When to turn on blinker: 3 houses before the turn, UNLESS “some S.O.B. is tailgating you”, then do it sooner.
c) How to pronounce “poem”: “po-um”. Definitely not “pome”.