His granddad arrived at Ellis Island in the late 1800s and settled in New York until a brother talked him into moving to Minnesota, a land ripe with opportunity for hard-working men. The Korean Conflict was in full swing when my dad hit seventeen, and he lied about his age in order to follow his best friend into the Navy. I’d always had a sneaking suspicion that his patriotism was an attempt to avoid the rampant alcoholism passed down from generation to generation, all the way from Ireland. As it turned out, my father couldn’t run far enough or fast enough to escape his genes, and the bottle found him anyway. He was honorably discharged with a purple heart, a bum knee, and an unquenchable thirst for firewater. Often my father didn’t appear inebriated, but it affected his memory. When I was a kid, he’d forget to pick me up from friends’ houses, or from school when I had to stay late. Once, when I was fourteen, he dropped Coop and I off at Valleyfair to ride the rollercoasters for the day and forgot to come back for us.
What do You think about Bingo Barge Murder (2011)?
