Respect! Michael C. East

Respect! will be an ongoing series of posts I write about someone who means something to me.  It will always be someone who has made a impact on my life or who has been a major influence of mine... or even someone who is just a downright good Joe to be around.  Anyone who has reflected beams of kindness from their heart to my head is a contender for this honor.  I think you get the picture.

"Even got the frame." -Agent Cooper

In our celebrity-obsessed culture, so many people receive recognition for doing absolutely nothing "right" or "good."  This was incredibly apparent today when I had the misfortune of watching my very first episode ever of "Jersey Shore."  I was appalled! These are the people I hear everyone talking about? On the streets and even on the news? These are the people on the cover of magazines? And they are famous? WHY?! Is anyone recognized because they have done something for the greater good? Made someone food while they were sick? Helped an old lady across the street? Saved a life? Passed a joint?

Its time to turn things around.

Today I will be recognizing the most important and special person roaming the planet today: my Dad, Mr. Michael C. East.

It remains a mystery as to what the "C." in his name actually stands for.  The story I heard was that his mom (my Grandma) wanted his middle name to be Charles and his dad (my Grandpa) wanted it to be Chauncy, so they just settled on the initial "C."  Not sure how accurate that is, but call him Chauncy and he will growl at you.  He sometimes insists that it stands for "Cash," which is meant to be funny 'cause he ain't got none.

 (Above: My Pops with the little owl he gave me before I went into surgery.  Awww.)

Recently, my Dad flew here from Chicago to be with me during my surgery and to take care of me in the days afterward.  I needed help and he was there.  He is the only person on the planet who would, for sure, with 100% certainty, have my back if I ever needed help.  Regardless of whether it be a flat tire or getting bailed out of jail (not that I ever have been!), he would be there.  And for someone who has experienced so much abandonment and loss in my life, his unconditional love means everything to me.  Other relationships have come and gone, but my Pappy has always been the one constant.  Ever since the day the meteorite landed on Mt. St. Helens (as it was erupting back in 1980) and broke into a million pieces to reveal the egg that I later hatched from, he has been by my side.

POP QUIZ!

Q: What are my two favorite things to do with my Dad?

A: Doing a crossword puzzle together while having breakfast at a diner and watching "Jeopardy!" together at a Chicago area dive bar.  A dream day would be to include both activities, with a drive around the city in between (ideally with my Dad's own historical/architectural commentary thrown in).

"You see that building there? That's the Prudential Building.  When I was a kid, that was the tallest building in Chicago." -Michael C. East 

"We know Dad." -Kids in unison

Alright, I know this is sounding cheesy by this point, but I just can't say enough good things about my Dad! He is the tops in my book.  Sure, he isn't perfect.  He isn't the best when it comes to being there emotionally.  Before he went back home a couple weeks ago, I cried and was telling him I didn't want him to leave and that I would miss him.  And he just kind of sat there silent and couldn't look at me.  I think he just has a tougher shell than me, and he keeps his feelings hidden.  So in a lot of ways we are different.  But since he is so tough on the outside, when he says something like, "You know your Pappy loves you" or "You're my number one gal sugar" its really means a lot. 

My Dad hasn't had an easy life.  I know things were tough for him growing up as the son of a WWII veteran who was an alcoholic and a pretty mean one from what I have heard.  He was born in California, but then his family came out to Illinois when Grandpa was stationed at Fort Sheridan.  Then he met my Mom and they got married... I am not sure if he ever wanted to have kids, but then I came along and my brother Mike.  He certainly didn't plan on raising us on his own after my Mom went splitsville.  Things weren't exactly easy for me either when I lived with him.  But I know he was just doing the best that he could.  During that time, he went through the deaths of two brothers and both of his parents -- silently.  He never talked about what was going on, how he was feeling, or what he was experiencing.  And I never saw him cry once.  Except that one time he got a little misty eyed when we were watching Old Yeller.  Sometimes I wonder what he would say if he could better describe his emotions.  I wish I knew that part of him better.  Hopefully I will someday.

This is why this kind of recognition is so important.  For me to be able to express how I feel about amazing individuals not only feels great, but also gives special and often times overlooked human beings the props they deserve!

So respect Michael C. East, you heard?! If you see him walking around the streets of Skokie, Illinois - shake the man's hand! Or if you see him at the end of the bar, his beer of choice is MGD.

I wouldn't be who I am without you.  Geek Girl wouldn't be here without you either! Thanks Dad.