Arguments

I always win arguments because I wear the other person out. Except for my wife. Why waste the time? We all know how that's going to turn out.

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My father loved to argue. It really didn't matter what the subject, he would argue to the bitter end. Most of the time, his opponent would just walk away, a victory in my old man's eyes.

If he was drunk, which was a great deal of the time, it would be even worse, especially if his opponent was also drunk. It never went as far as fisticuffs. He wasn't that brave. He preferred to save those episodes for people much weaker than he.

Prior to my first nuptials, we had a rehearsal dinner and went back to my soon to be in-laws house, so everyone could get better acquainted. My Dad started insulting Muhammad Ali, just to push one of my brother's hot buttons. The argument escalated out of control, even though there were numerous attempts to calm him down.

At one point, I slipped out through the kitchen and into the garage. I was mortified. After a while, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was my father in law to be. I had know him since I was twelve, so he obviously knew me well. He told me, "You realize this is no reflection on you". Instantly, a load was lifted from my shoulders.

That's the kind of man he was. The best man I ever knew. John Sebenius was the man I called Dad. My father was a frightening figure to be feared. Dad taught me how to salt water fish, whether it was on a boat, off a pier or off of the surf. He was very patient, giving man.

If he knew you were short on funds, he would give you his famous two handed hand shake that always had money in it. He was amazing. Even when things were weird and unexpected, you could always count on him.

Once, when my marriage to his daughter was crumbling, I was coming home from work very late. I worked in electronics retail, it was Christmas time and I worked an hour from home. We lived in an apartment complex and as I was pulling in, a drunk young woman jumped into the passenger side of the truck and said, "Get me out of here!"

I was shocked, as you might imagine, and asked why. "My boyfriend is trying to kill me, move!" I hit the gas and drove around, asking as many questions as I could, in order to ascertain the gravity of the situation. When I realized that she was in real danger, I took her to Dad's house.

Understand, it was almost two in the morning, my marriage collapsing, and I was ringing their door bell with this drunk young lady. When he opened the door, he looked at me like I had lost my mind. Who wouldn't? I explained the situation and we all went in and sat down in the living room. They called their minister and he was able to lend assistance to the young lady, as soon as she sobered up. I went home, and it was never spoken of again.

I was very fortunate to have Dad in my life. He taught me how to be a good man. My father was a jerk until the last few of his 79 years. He quit drinking, and was a joy to be around. I'm glad I'I got to spend the time with him.

The reason my father never lost an argument was because of his closer. It was always, "Well, that's how the pros do it. He even said that in an argument over ice cream ingredients. Amazing.

See you tomorrow.

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