something…
My father provided…my luxurious hopes had fallen to me from him.
– John Updike, The Centaur
✟
My father was a Baptist preacher, one not
usually for show as pride cometh before a great
fall. But there were moments when he realized
luxurious hopes.
It had been driven only for a season by the dealer’s
mother, a fastidious matron by the name of Coker.
God it was something – a four-door Buick Electra
whiter than snow with plush interior the scarlet of
Christ’s blood, power windows and locks plus an
AM/FM 8-track player with complimentary The
Sound Around You demo tape filled with the songs
of that time, our time: Roberta Flack’s Killing Me
Softly and Seals & Croft’s Summer Breeze.
No doubt there were scoffers but for the most part
it seemed his flock was pleased their shepherd drove
around in high cotton. My father bled for that east
Texas congregation, providing them with faith, hope,
and love. But the greatest of these – hope – he let fall
to me. God he was something.
Man, he IS something, John, we
love your mom and dad
Thanks, Mike…me too.
What a tribute. Happy Father’s Day to your dad–and to you.
Hi, Gretchen…thanks for the FD wishes!
Oh, my. I love this story…and, of course, the way you tell it. My dad was not a Baptist preacher, but a statistics teacher and college counselor. And one year, he got a great deal on a new Buick, you remember the ones with fins?? Only problem…its color was Lido Lavender. We drove that thing for years and it never, ever faded. No, it did not.
Good stuff John. My dad is a Baptist minister too.