tromboneliness

This is my Dad -- who turned 90 this past Monday, thereby validating his belief that he is (as Wabbit says above) "superior over everyone, especially their kids."

My Dad's entire personal life revolves around being, and proving himself, superior to everyone else. (What makes it annoying is that he is, in fact, extremely intelligent -- a brilliant scientist in his day, and even at 90, able to describe scientific work he did 50 years ago and, if the phone should ring, he could even do consulting work today.) So he is equipped with Superior Intelligence™ He has consumed quantities of alcohol that would kill a horse many times over, but has suffered no apparent health effects -- clear evidence of Superior Physical Constitution™. And having outlived everyone else in the family -- he has two sisters still soldiering on, but they are both frail and suffering from varying degrees of dementia -- he has Superior Stamina™. So it's not just that he thinks he's superior -- he can actually point to a number of important areas in which he is, I grudgingly admit, pretty tough to beat.

But -- here's what I'm getting at -- as you say, "Family is not a license for abuse." The fact that my Dad is smarter than a lot of people, has lived longer than most, has accomplished a lot, and all in all, looks great on paper, does not justify treating his family like indentured servants. We all worked for him growing up, but there is a reason why both of his kids now live in other states. He does not get this at all.

Now, despite my Dad's overall Superior Constitution™, he is quite frail -- he's 90, after all. He's got a pacemaker because of atrial fibrillation, his balance isn't great, his eyesight is sort-of okay but not that great anymore, his stamina isn't good, and he has a tendency to poop in his pants from time to time. Add it up, and he might be a good candidate for assisted living -- which his doctor has repeatedly recommended. But no -- he refuses, digs in his heels, and says no, he wants to die in the 3,000-square-foot house on an acre and a half in the suburbs where he's been living since 1964.

My sister (you'll recall she's the World's Biggest People Pleaser and Codependent) was in town this past week, and she had a guy come over, from an agency that offers a whole bunch of in-home services for elderly people. My Dad apparently spent the whole time arguing that he didn't need anything, and that it was ridiculous that the agency took a cut of what he'd be paying for the services provided by nurses, housekeepers, etc. My Dad, in addition to being as described above, is also the cheapest person in the universe and believes that no one has the right to earn a living doing anything he has to pay for. Ergo, no help from the agency -- despite the fact that an old scientific colleague of his, who lives right down the street, uses them and is apparently happy with the services they provide.

So it goes. The unspoken part of this is that Dad would like me to move back to the house I grew up in. Well, ain't no way that's happening. But just as it would be insane (same thing, expecting diff. results) for me to expect his attitude to change at this point, it's equally insane for him to think he's going to get me (and, presumably, my wife) back there. As my old boss used to say, "No way. No f890ing way. Absolutely no f890ing way. Absolutely, positively, no f890ing way!"

T