Wednesday, August 27, 2008

mile high affleck...

My father, unlike his daughter, isn't impressed by much. I've seen him out-wig bigwigs. Shit, I've seen Gavin talk to Pops like he's a regular person. And Gavin never talks to anyone that way! I'm proud to report, Daddy fuckin' owns it. 
Thus, I now know my father's "this is a big deal" tone, mainly because it's so rare.
Mom, Lex and I had dinner at Fish tonight. 
Because Dad's at the convention! 
And while he's having the time of his life, talking to mucky muck politicos ain't no big whoop to Papa Spots. He's called me a coupla times from Denver where he's reporting with Mr. Rubin for the IJ, but really just to check in, make sure I've paid my bills and ask me his weekly question. 
"Hi Daddy."
"Who loves Bethy?!?!"
"Dad. Give it a fucking rest."
"Who loves Bethy!!!!!"
"Ugh. Daddy does."
We are then allowed to converse as adults. 
So tonight, when he called from his cell phone, from which he cannot (due to his own inability) receive voicemail, I answered as if he'd interrupted me from Starsky and Hutch, which he had.
"Hey Daddy. What?"
"Bethy." 
Oh my God. The tone! "Ben Affleck is 10 feet away from me."
"Daddy, wait! What!?!"
"Shut up. Listen to me." (Allow me to explain that my phone is now ringing every 15 minutes with calls from Pa, suddenly aware of how to use a Nokia.)
Um, my dad is with Ben Affleck, Kristin Dunst ("Kiersten Durst from Superman or whatever!") and Star Jones ("Who is Star Jones!?!?!" click.) 
He is trying to hide his hysteria whilst remaining cool. 
Daddy just called again. 
"Hi Dad. I'm writing a blog about you!"
"Bethy! I just had a 30 minute conversation with Jimmy Hoffa Jr. God, that's a great guy. What a class act! click!"
After describing his evening as "Hollywood with a capital H", my father revealed that he and Mr. Rubin somehow wormed their way into the SAG party. 
Yeah, the Screen Actors' Guild hosts a party at the Democratic Convention. 
"You should see this buffet!"
Another call. "Forrest Whittaker! Bethy, you should be here. Oh, Bethy, you'd die a thousand deaths! click."
My mother just called and seeing her number, I answered, "I take it you've talked to Daddy."
Laughter, followed by, "Yes! He's very excited. He's at a SAG party."
I'm sitting here watching America's Funniest Home Videos  and my dear old dad is in Denver, constantly calling us. 
"We just got invited to Biden's party! And rumor is Barack is showing! click!"
Screw you, Dad. 
Truth be told, I'm jealous of all my peeps in Denver: Leubitz, Hogarth, Zoe (who ran into Pops and took the above snapshot).  But shit, my 61 year old dad is standing next to Ben Affleck RIGHT NOW and I'm sitting on a futon in the ghetto, now watching "Tyler Perry's House of Payne" and fielding calls. 
'Who is Star Jones?' Obviously, my father has no right to even be there...

1 comment:

Seana said...

"talking to mucky muck politicos ain't no big whoop to Papa Spots." - Pure Gold