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My Dad died three years ago, and I was going through some of his stuff recently.
My Dad got me "into" movies, SF, horror, etc.
He was a fan before me, and he took me to see Dracula and other classics.
So I've always been indebted for him pointing the way to "a great thing".
But he was a dreamer, and later in life a rather "bitter" dreamer.
I know why.
My Dad was very intelligent, even as a kid.
He always had great grades, even though my grandparents weren't educated people. When he turned 18, he took a provincial exam where almost a million kids were tested to see what their abilities were.
He came...first. He aced that test to perfection.
University seemed to be the only and logical choice.
But my grandparents said no.
He had to get a "real" job, electrician.
It was the very same thing that had happened to my uncle, who had taken the test before and had come in....first place.
Isn't it terrible?
I know, nothing wrong with learning a trade, but all that potential?
He had to go to the army first (still mandatory then), and when he came back, my grandfather had burned all my Dad's books. All his comics and SF books.
From then on, my Dad slowly "lost" his dreams. He never took a change anymore. He played it safe. Stopped going to movies. And he stopped encouraging his family to "progress". He never bought a house. He never taught us how to swim.
He never became an electrician. How's that for irony?
He was even afraid of handling appliances. Later in life, he unplugged every appliance before going to bed, the fridge being the only exception. No joke.
He loved us, no mistake about that, but all that fear. Perhaps the fear of losing his hopes again?
I wish my Dad had been able to keep on dreaming. Why couldn't his parents have supported him? Or his brother?
It's a terrible thing, to crush someone's dreams.
Of his three kids, I am the only one who keeps trying to "push the outside of the envelope" and "take a chance".
In a way, I consider it my duty to the dreamer in my Dad, to go for it and take a leap.
Never say die!
My Dad got me "into" movies, SF, horror, etc.
He was a fan before me, and he took me to see Dracula and other classics.
So I've always been indebted for him pointing the way to "a great thing".
But he was a dreamer, and later in life a rather "bitter" dreamer.
I know why.
My Dad was very intelligent, even as a kid.
He always had great grades, even though my grandparents weren't educated people. When he turned 18, he took a provincial exam where almost a million kids were tested to see what their abilities were.
He came...first. He aced that test to perfection.
University seemed to be the only and logical choice.
But my grandparents said no.
He had to get a "real" job, electrician.
It was the very same thing that had happened to my uncle, who had taken the test before and had come in....first place.
Isn't it terrible?
I know, nothing wrong with learning a trade, but all that potential?
He had to go to the army first (still mandatory then), and when he came back, my grandfather had burned all my Dad's books. All his comics and SF books.
From then on, my Dad slowly "lost" his dreams. He never took a change anymore. He played it safe. Stopped going to movies. And he stopped encouraging his family to "progress". He never bought a house. He never taught us how to swim.
He never became an electrician. How's that for irony?
He was even afraid of handling appliances. Later in life, he unplugged every appliance before going to bed, the fridge being the only exception. No joke.
He loved us, no mistake about that, but all that fear. Perhaps the fear of losing his hopes again?
I wish my Dad had been able to keep on dreaming. Why couldn't his parents have supported him? Or his brother?
It's a terrible thing, to crush someone's dreams.
Of his three kids, I am the only one who keeps trying to "push the outside of the envelope" and "take a chance".
In a way, I consider it my duty to the dreamer in my Dad, to go for it and take a leap.
Never say die!
-Tallahassee 
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