Portrait With Still-Life

I find no reason to distract my father who is yelling at the empty prescription

bottle. After he returned from the war, which he didn't find to his liking, he

operated a drill press without distinction for nearly fifty years. He raised a

family that was barely passable. He strode forth only when the weather fit

his shoes. He stood in the backyard and painted all the landscapes that

passed through his head, "like tulip petals on their way to a farter version of

heaven." He learned to read when he was a very young child, but found this

was an impediment later in his life. He was not my father, but a kitchen

appliance in need of repairs.

-- John Yau [Jan Reitsma]