All posts by Tom




So, my Dad would be 100 today.  Happy Birthday Dad.

Sons, I wish you had known and seen Papa as I had Dad. I know he would be so proud of each one of you, and would congratulate me on the job I’d done. I have some fine ass sons.

Papa created with his hands. He would visualize the angle of a problem from where it had to be solved, and work backward.

He was a magician in the fact that he made something out of nothing; he took raw materials and created something functional and sometimes, fantastic. I think he broke some things on purpose just to challenge himself to see how to build a tool to fix it.

My Dad loved to dance and to sing and to joke and to eat; to “whistle like an orchestra,” as he worked in the garage, turning wood into toys or planks into tables. He could whistle any part of a song, including the lead vocal. Perfect pitch. He could whistle the Bosa Nova or to “Happy Louie’s ” tunes.

He was funny. He was happy. He loved to have fun. He liked to laugh and loved Red Skelton on Sunday. He dressed reasonably, 80% of the time. “Plaid” was his favorite color, every pattern, every piece of clothing; except his socks, which he wasn’t ashamed to wear with loafers. Silk socks.

He was fascinated with “perpetual motion.” So I assume that’s why he’s holding that pendulum. I’m sure it’s not a Catholic Mass incense burner, but you never knew with my Dad.

He was inventive and creative and imaginative and disciplined. He loved my mother and my brothers and my sisters and did the best he could with what he had available for each of us. He loved us all in different ways, but he loved us all. He was proud of the family he and my Mom created.  And we were proud to be theirs.

Stop and think of something kind or fun or thoughtful about your father. Whatever it is, it’s worth remembering. Remember it. Remember him. He had his part in making you.

Don’t wait for Father’s Day to celebrate your father. Celebrate him every time you think of him. There will be a great degree of healing going on, so go on; think of a story right now about your own father. Do it with love. Send it to him wherever he is, alive or dead.

Walter Typinski, if you were here right now I would hug you so hard you’d feel tackled; but I would hold you up. We would laugh and sing and dance and I would listen to your laughter so I’d never forget its sound. I would look in your eyes deeply and tell you how much I love you and you would know so deeply in that moment how truly I do.

Dad, if there’s partying in Heaven, they’re throwing one for you now;  free beer, free bowling, kapusta and potatoes, and Polkas til dawn.

I wish I could hand these words to you. I wish I could show you my craft. But I can’t wish no more because the time we had was all the time we had. Happy 100th Birthday Dad.

Love, Tom

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