Feb 2019 10

I woke up with this strange premonition to call my dad this morning. When your father is 90 years old (but looks 70, and acts 18), you listen to the universe when it says to contact him. He answered the phone – yay.

After some small talk about the weather, etc.

DAD: I went over to The Bay yesterday to look for some pants.

ME: Oh, that’s good you got out.

DAD: I don’t know how these young people do this with their slim fashion shit.

ME: What do you mean?

DAD: All this skinny pants ball-pinching stuff. It’s terrible.

ME: Did you try any on?

DAD: No. I just know it’s not my thing. One guy in my building says he has to go to a tailor. That’s the thing about getting old, Andrew. You don’t like any of the fashion. You all can keep your ball-crushing pants.

Sometimes I feel I am in tune with the universe. And other times, I just wonder what it is trying to tell me. ‘Call your dad. He wants to talk about fashion and testicles.’