"So, I was talking to my dad about his jail time..."

This line was used at the dinner table last night, and it brought tears of laughter to my family's eyes.

Looking back on my dad's jail time, I really am proud of him. For some twisted reason, it makes me happy to see people who are so devoted to their convictions (his, not bowing to authority--I guess in short it would be called anarchy), that they are willing to go to jail for them. Sure, it's not like he was protesting something hugely important, like my Nonna was when she went to jail, but he was still trying to speak his own truth to power.

Ok, I can see myself reaching to explain this. All I'm trying to say is that I appreciate his character and morals(ish). I also am pleased by his going to jail, because it provides me with endless jokes.

My mind fades into imagination:

large brawny polynesian: "PICK UP THE SOAP."

my dad: "But it's powder!!!"

Just kidding.


But something funny did happen on the way home. We were debating which route was faster, because my dad always takes this obscure path through the neighborhood. I told him the direct way would be faster. His reply: "But it's near the police station, and I'm a little bit sensitive still." Cue hysterical laughter from me.

I think I'm going to record his adventure in a podcast interview type thing. It really is quite amusing and informative. How many times do you get to hear first hand about what jail is like?