fathers from the black lagoon.

by dorarandom


i still haven’t gotten my car back. i’ve definitely passed the point of expecting-it-any-day-now and have settled comfortably into days of mystery science theater and ultra-heathenish Not Even Trying. i am a hardcore depressive, of course, and i do surely recognize that i’m giving in to depression, but it’s such a relaxing kind of depression i enjoy giving into it. a placid and gentle depression. a rather sane, soul-defending kind of depression, in some sense—i mean, if/when i get out and go for a walk, i have to look at baltimore in march. piles of asphalt gray snow melting and bringing up frozen dogshit. parks without grass. strange people with strange teeth—talking in that strange accent.

somehow i had not realized until circa two days ago that mystery science theater did an episode with ‘revenge of the creature‘, which i had to watch as a kid because my father is “in” it—he had a summer job at Marineland, where the movie was filmed, and ended up as an extra/Guy Feeding Dolphin. i remember being so, so bored and grayed-out by this movie when i saw it—(i love mystery science theater just because it is, you know, brilliant, but science fiction is my least-favorite/most-resisted genre of movie/book/everything else—i quite like when MST3K takes on TV movies, failed noir, and “of course” the fascinating films of Coleman Francis, Bad Auteur…i digress, quite nerdily…)—anyway, i was hesitant to watch the revenge of the creature episode. briefly hesitant.

but, it’s a glorious thing: my father actually gets riffed on—! or, the man who my father thought he was and told me he was when i watched it. (the line is: ‘Flippy is guarded by Hitler youth.’) the man’s face is on the screen for a second but i couldn’t tell if it was my father or not. and couldn’t decide whether it was worth pausing to investigate. i will put it on my to-do list. if my father is actually the subject of a mystery science theater riff—well, that will certainly officially be the Random family’s finest hour. or finest two seconds.

i would doubt that it’s actually my father in the movie, (as he does have a tendency to just say shit), but he does have a Creature paw. which proves at least that he did have some tangential involvement. again, whether he believed he was an extra, or convinced himself that he was an extra, or actually was an extra—i can’t decide whether it’s worth investigating. i could ask the man, but he seems pretty far gone these days—i spoke to him not un-recently and he was in the hospital with the textbook classic symptoms of congestive heart failure, but gave no indication that he was aware of this.

i admit that i really want that paw when he dies. not that i expect his death imminently—he is both a chronic invalid and a hypochondriac, if that makes any sense—he is not one to ignore the ghost of a chance of a Symptom—! nor do i look forward to it…but i have to admit i’m neutral. he wasn’t the kind of father that really had much to bring to the table. and i was supposed to get “the house”, but i blithely relinquished my claim on that in favor of his current wife, and i was supposed to get the ancestral “gold-headed cane”, but i found that in a storage unit and mailed it to one of my brothers, who had developed a sudden clamoring yearning for it—God forgive me, you know i’m not the acquisitive type, but i am inclined to formally stake my claim to that nasty green rubber paw.