poppa needs a brand new bag

it's official: my father needs to get a job.

not in that no-good, deadbeat baby daddy kind of way, cause i'm damn near almost 28 years old.

my gray-haired, 59-year old father is retired, and has too much time on his hands. his days are spent playing golf and berating his family members. we love him to death, but every single day he goes off on tangents about something, whether it's how sorry president bush is or just because his golf digest didn't come that day.

this is how he spends his time, as he explains it. he wakes up around 5:30. puts the coffee on. takes a shower. watches a c-span call-in show (he never calls in but can rant about everything that's being said). harasses my mother before she goes off to work, usually about bills or whatever Bible passage he's found and wants to discuss. sits on the front porch with his two best friends: a labrador retriever and his bottomless cup of coffee. takes a nap. watches a combination of c-span, msnbc, or the golf channel. takes another nap. possibly cooks dinner. tells my mother how his day went when she comes home (although he didn't do much of anything).

that's a typical day with him, unless it's wednesday and then it's his standing golf game with other retirees like himself.

but other than that, his other hobbies are talking church gossip from his work as a deacon and dispensing long-winded stories or advice, which usually requires you to have to walk away from him to shut him up (and sometimes he'll keep talking). he's like bill cosby, in the way you simply ask him one question, and it does lead to the answer, but comes with another story of some relevance, sometimes not.

so as you can see, he needs to find a job. the quicker the better.

we love him, but our family can only tolerate so much.