One of my happiest memories of my dad was when a bunch of my friends came over just prior to prom. The plan was that we would take my family's 8-seater van around and pick up all the dates. Not exactly a limo, but it got the job done.
One of my friends was from a dirt-poor family. They couldn't afford even regular stuff like enough food and clothing. Absentee dad(s), crap subsidized housing, food bank regulars, the works. Nothing wrong with that, mind you. But the kid wasn't exactly prepared for a "prom experience." He showed up in a t-shirt and his nicest jeans. The rest of us had suits, carnations, and corsages for the girls. But kudos to the guy for coming along anyway, despite not having a full regulation kit.
The guys all got there in the early afternoon, just to hang out. When my dad saw the other kid didn't have any going-out clothes, he shut the whole thing down, took us to the mall, and rushed us through the men's department of one of the stores, Macy's or whatever. He bought the kid a full suit off the rack, belt, tie, socks, dress shoes, pocket square, and everything else he needed for prom.
When we got back to our place, my dad fussed ALL OVER that kid. He gave him a towel and a new disposable razor and told him to go take a shower and clean up. He ironed the dress shirt so it didn't look like it came right out of the package, made him go out on the sidewalk and scuff up the soles of the dress shoes so he wouldn't slide, spent fifteen minutes teaching him how to tie a tie. Oh, I forgot- one of our stops was to a florist, where my dad bought a corsage so he wouldn't be the only one without one to give (and she wouldn't be the only girl without one at prom).
Basically, my dad did all the things the kid's dad would have done- or should have- if he hadn't bugged out ten years before prom. He just took charge and made sure that other boy got everything he needed.
The effect was obvious all night. When we picked up our dates, his girlfriend was floored. Hell, everyone at prom itself was floored. We'd never seen this kid in anything but thrift-store shoes and clothing. It was like one of those teen movies where you take the glasses off a mousy wallflower and she instantly becomes a breathtaking beauty. Except in this case with lots more Old Spice cologne.
He was a pretty resilient kid, but you could tell that it really boosted his confidence. I think what it did more than anything else was to let him have a normal prom night, without any nasty looks or negative attention for not fitting in. Which for a teenager was probably better than gold.
It was a weird experience for me, because part of me actually felt a little jealous that the other kid was getting so much attention. But the rest of me was just overwhelmed with admiration for my dad. I mean, I loved my dad and all, but I think this was one of the first times in my life where i consciously wanted to BE like him. Sadly, I don't think I ever told him that. Hopefully he picked up on it somehow. I did tell this story at my dad's memorial service, though. So maybe he was up there watching.
GuntherRowe on August 23rd, 2020 at 12:32 UTC »
I don’t think there was a single prom in the USA this year because of covid. I wonder when this happened.
pussywise_the_clown on August 23rd, 2020 at 12:42 UTC »
There’s a tiny face behind his tie on his chest and I can’t unsee it.
gaspronomib on August 23rd, 2020 at 15:18 UTC »
One of my happiest memories of my dad was when a bunch of my friends came over just prior to prom. The plan was that we would take my family's 8-seater van around and pick up all the dates. Not exactly a limo, but it got the job done.
One of my friends was from a dirt-poor family. They couldn't afford even regular stuff like enough food and clothing. Absentee dad(s), crap subsidized housing, food bank regulars, the works. Nothing wrong with that, mind you. But the kid wasn't exactly prepared for a "prom experience." He showed up in a t-shirt and his nicest jeans. The rest of us had suits, carnations, and corsages for the girls. But kudos to the guy for coming along anyway, despite not having a full regulation kit.
The guys all got there in the early afternoon, just to hang out. When my dad saw the other kid didn't have any going-out clothes, he shut the whole thing down, took us to the mall, and rushed us through the men's department of one of the stores, Macy's or whatever. He bought the kid a full suit off the rack, belt, tie, socks, dress shoes, pocket square, and everything else he needed for prom.
When we got back to our place, my dad fussed ALL OVER that kid. He gave him a towel and a new disposable razor and told him to go take a shower and clean up. He ironed the dress shirt so it didn't look like it came right out of the package, made him go out on the sidewalk and scuff up the soles of the dress shoes so he wouldn't slide, spent fifteen minutes teaching him how to tie a tie. Oh, I forgot- one of our stops was to a florist, where my dad bought a corsage so he wouldn't be the only one without one to give (and she wouldn't be the only girl without one at prom).
Basically, my dad did all the things the kid's dad would have done- or should have- if he hadn't bugged out ten years before prom. He just took charge and made sure that other boy got everything he needed.
The effect was obvious all night. When we picked up our dates, his girlfriend was floored. Hell, everyone at prom itself was floored. We'd never seen this kid in anything but thrift-store shoes and clothing. It was like one of those teen movies where you take the glasses off a mousy wallflower and she instantly becomes a breathtaking beauty. Except in this case with lots more Old Spice cologne.
He was a pretty resilient kid, but you could tell that it really boosted his confidence. I think what it did more than anything else was to let him have a normal prom night, without any nasty looks or negative attention for not fitting in. Which for a teenager was probably better than gold.
It was a weird experience for me, because part of me actually felt a little jealous that the other kid was getting so much attention. But the rest of me was just overwhelmed with admiration for my dad. I mean, I loved my dad and all, but I think this was one of the first times in my life where i consciously wanted to BE like him. Sadly, I don't think I ever told him that. Hopefully he picked up on it somehow. I did tell this story at my dad's memorial service, though. So maybe he was up there watching.