What I've been doing all week

So I've been a little light on the bog content this week. Mainly due to getting back to work, and writing the Colorado report (see Monday's entry). I also was busy trying to write my Father's speech for his retirement party. I finally finished it yesterday afternoon, and knocked it out of the park last night. So I'll change a few names, and share it with you guys here. I hope you enjoy it.

When it comes to civil service jobs, Postal workers kinda got rough.

I mean, firefighters get a house and a really cool truck
Police get squad cars to patrol in
The LIRR conductors get to work on the train
The DMV people get bad moods and the ability to slow down the space/time continuum
Postal workers get this little dorky truck, a really heavy bag, and get to walk through everything nature can throw at them for miles.

Honestly Dad, what the heck were you thinking.

On 33rd Street and 8th Avenue in New York City one would find the General Post Office facility. And inscribed on the front of it are the words that any member of the Postal Service knows by heart. "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds."

As you all know, for the past 37 years, My father Riley Scott Sr. put on that blue uniform, and became one of these fabled couriers. Except, that famous creed is kinda incomplete for my Dad. We need to add a few things here, let's see. Snow, rain, heat, gloom, ummm...., dogs, ice, hail, hernia surgery, uncountable hours of lost sleep, malfunctioning cars, compression boots, hour long commutes, and the loss of both hips did not stay this courier from the swift completion of his appointed rounds!

His appointed rounds however, did prevent him from ever being on time to the Country Club. Yes my father not only was a Postal worker, but worked a second job. When asked why, his response was always: “Well, my wife said two words to me, and I knew I had to get another job”

“What was it ‘I Do’?”

“Nope, I’m pregnant.”

So, for the last 28 years, my dad worked 6-somtimes 7 days a week to support his family. As his family grew, Dad’s life became just that much harder. To give his children a better home and supposedly better schools, he in turn gave up his cozy 10 minute commute to work for the hour long trek he drove for the last 20 years. This resulted in my dad leaving usually before the sun came up at 5am, and coming home between 6-8 o clock at night. On the weekends, he would leave his second job, and instead of coming home to the family who he worked so hard for, would go to his friend Dave’s Auto Glass business and sleep in a chair. Just so he could get 1 or 2 hours more sleep. And when I say more sleep, I’m not talking the difference between 6 and 8, it was usually the difference of 1 and a half versus 3 and a half hours of sleep. It wasn’t all bad however. My Dad developed the skill to be able to memorize addresses in a flash, along with the ability to tell you who lived in each house on his Route, and who was there before them, etc… during his entire tenure. He could tell you this along with every Yankees statistic since before he was born, but he probably can’t tell you what he had for breakfast yesterday. During the holidays, Route 11 provided it’s courier with the gift of Christmas tips. The people on my Dad’s Route would give a little thank you for all the hard work he did all year long. My Father and Mother are unique people, I say this because instead of taking that money and spending it on a new car, a vacation, or new appliance, even when we needed one; instead my parents provided the most magnificent Christmases any kid could imagine.

One could think that with his long absences, and grueling work schedule that my Dad might have been an absent father figure for my sister and I. Yet, nothing could be farther from the truth. In addition to Mom keeping Dad’s presence in the forefront of our minds by saying nearly daily “You just wait till your father comes home”, my Dad was a true partner in raising his children. He was front and center for every concert, dance recital (my sister's not mine), birthday, graduation, anything special that happened in my sister's or my life where you wanted a parent there, both of mine were there. Mom came all the other times when you didn't want a parent there, but that’s another speech…..kidding Mom. My Father taught my sister and I how to ride our bikes, and later how to drive. He valiantly tried sports with me, but it didn’t take. Seriously, with how many times I beaned this guy in certain areas, sometimes I’m surprised that my sister's here at all. He introduced me to video games first with his old Colecovision. Which coincidentally was the last system he ever had a chance of beating me on.

By now you’re probably thinking that, wow, Riley’s life was pretty full, he must have had no fun at all. Oh, how wrong you are. My Dad knows how to have fun. He had a whole menagerie of hobbies to keep him occupied during his huge amount of down time. These included amateur landscaping, plumbing, carpentry, air conditioning installation, and his yearly battle with the radiators when winter came. He expanded to exterior and interior decorating under Mom’s careful direction during the holiday times. Once in a blue moon however he got to do one of his 3 favorite things.

1. Sleep

2. Watching a Yankee game on Tv/listening to one in the car/asking the waiters at the Country club for the score in between making drinks.

3. Going to the movie theatre with one of his children (That was always my favorite)

I’m slightly ashamed to say that I honestly did not understand or appreciate the gravity of all my father did for us while I was growing up. For that Dad I apologize. It took moving away when I was 23, and getting two jobs of my own to fully grasp what my father had done for us. After a year, I found out why my Dad’s pinkie toes looked like that, cause mine started to look the same way. I found out why my Dad was always grumpy when we used his days off to go on vacation or something, because on my day off, I didn’t want to do anything. I discovered new places on my body that could hurt, and in talking to my Dad, instead of his sympathy, I got “Use this cream…that worked for me”. He’d been through it all. He knew exactly what I was going through, cause he’d already done it, twenty times longer, and with a body twice as old.

In preparing my words tonight, I tried to think back at some of lessons that my Dad taught me over the years. These include such gems as:

“Remember Riley, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know”: My dad and I disagreed over this accolade while I was growing up. However he was proven right, when I got my current job not only through my academic credentials, but because my future Mother-in-law knew my then future boss.

His famous birds and the bees speech: “So I hear you have a girlfriend now”

“Yep”

“Well, keep your pants on”

end said speech

But the one that sticks out the most is a time when I actually asked my Dad what made him work so hard for so long. I asked him this, because I couldn’t think of anything that would make someone work till literally parts of their anatomy started falling off.

And I’ll never forget what he said back to me… “So hopefully, one day, You and Your Sister won’t have to”.

My Dad’s wish came true, as his son and daughter are both now College Graduates with promising careers and bright futures.

At this time, I would like to propose a toast to my father, but before I do, I feel that I’m neglecting someone. My mother.

My Mom and Dad recently celebrated 30 years of marriage together, and in this day and age, that is quite an accomplishment. I’d like to acknowledge my mother tonight because this is as close to a retirement party as she’ll most likely ever get. You see, her three full time jobs, perhaps you know them,

JOB1 *point to me*

JOB2 *point to Sister*

And JOB 3 *points to Dad*

We don’t have a great pension plans, or a retirement date at all actually. Mom is always ON. The best my sister and I can hope to give her is grandchildren…*waits for Mom's reaction that we're going to announce that my wife is pregnant, like she's been doing since we've been married*...somewhere down the line.

While my Dad was working parts of his butt off, my Mom was working just as hard to make sure that my sister and I turned into the responsible, productive, caring adults you see before you. I might have taken just a smidge *start out with small fingers, then widen dramatically* more effort then my sister, but that’s not the point. The point is that Dad, and this family couldn’t have made it without Mom working mostly thanklessly in the background.

And now, if you'll all raise your glasses.

Dad, you worked so hard for so long. You gave me the perfect example of how to be a provider and a father. I hope your retirement brings you the time to watch all the movies you missed, play all the games you wanted to, watch all the Yankees you can, and reclaim some of the sleep you lost.

At some point every parent says to their kids, “You’ll thank me one day”.

Well, Dad…and Mom…Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for everything!

Happy Retirement Dad!