The Unauthorized Biography of Rosco P. Coltrane

When it's my moment in the sun, I won't forget that I am blessed, but every hero walks alone, thinking of more things to confess

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Location: Owensboro, Kentucky, United States


Monday, January 30, 2006

My Dad And I Were Training To Be Cage Fighters

My dad and I should have been a wrestling tag team. I don't know what our name would be, but it would be something cool. Like American Laser Assassins. Or The Whuppin' Cranes. But we would be amazing.

My dad has two pair of American Flag pants. We thought it would be funny if we both put them on the Fourth of July. My dad loves these parachute pants. He has all kinds. He has skull and crossbones, hippy, and just plain weird ones. I don't know, they aren't quite my style. They are a bit too free, if you know what I mean. But he wears them everywhere, and he just doesn't care what anyone thinks of them.

My dad loves to tell this story about his parachute pants...

He was riding in an elevator when my grandmother was in the hospital. And as always my dad was wearing his parachute pants, I think he might have been wearing his skull and crossbones pair. Well, anyway, he is on this elevator going to visit my grandmother. There was this doctor standing next to him in the elevator and he asked my dad a question. He asked, "Do you always wear pants like that?" (This would be the point in the story where my dad would turn his ever so silightly, grin and say I thought oh no, this dumb son of a bitch doctor was fixing to get smart.) My dad answered, "Yeah, I wear whatever I want to." The doctor then shook his head and said, "I wish I could."

My dad loves that story because he loves the idea that he can do whatever he wants to. My dad loves the idea that some doctor that probably drives a jag is jealous of the fact that he can wear parachute pants. I love that story too. Because it is true.