I walked into the bar, running late because of an argument with my second wife. If things continue down this path, she'll be my second ex-wife. I'm fuming at my lack of competence in the relationship category. I am running another relationship into the ground and while my dad was only in my life part-time, I've managed to pick up all of his character traits when it comes to women. The only difference is I decided to marry the women I cheated on, a failed attempt of separating myself from my father's womanizing past. But Abram Gray, my father is who he is, and I am him. It's pretty funny: I, the college educated son have never been able to stay in a committed relationship and my ex-convict, half brother is the most loyal husband/friend/person I've ever known.
Now I was staring at the menu but none of the words were registering. Being a bi-racial child growing up in an almost all white school was difficult enough. Not having my dad in the home with me made things even worse. My mom wouldn't give another black man the time of day, so I was stuck with these white men playing part-time father figure to me, but really just trying to sleep with my mom. They would never understand how it was to be black (when you're half black, everyone just calls you black, so you're black) just like I'd never understand why my mother's face would light up when she saw my dad. He'd make an excuse for why he didn't come and pick me up on time and she would just eat it up. She couldn't stand to speak his name when he wasn't around, but when she was in his presence, she was in his web and she wanted to be there. They seem to have a true connection and I always wanted them back together. I'm sure Warrick felt the same when dad went to visit his mom.
"Bart, what will you have today?" Anne is our Sunday server who gently interrupts our bickering to ask if we'd like another drink and never keeps us waiting. She's like an extension of our family on Sundays.
I stared at my dad and listened to he and Warrick talk about the NFL preseason and if it matters or not. I didn't have much input. I wanted his input on why he was such a flawed man. I wanted to know who we had to blame for our ineptitude. If he could pinpoint his dad, or great-granddad like I can pinpoint him, I'd feel a sense of relief in not hating him as much as I do right now.
Maybe it's just a men thing. Maybe a human thing. Maybe marriage is just obsolete. Maybe with the likes of LeBron James and Dwight Howard deciding that they'd rather jump ship than right their current one, that, the sports world is reflecting what's happening in regular people's lives as well. The allure of something better will always be present, lurking in every magazine, every awards show and every porn site. That goes for men and women alike. Women see Kim Kardashian and Jennifer Lopez seamlessly transition from relationship to relationship with the gracefulness of Gabby Douglas probably think it isn't that bad to be single again. Love is hard work and in the times of fast food and DVRs where we can even fast forward through commercials, who wants to put in the time to work on a relationship?
I wanted to ask my dad all of these questions, but I didn't know how to tackle the subject. I haven't built up the courage yet. Maybe next Sunday.
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