I was 20 and had an open ended return ticket to Israel. Before going to Israel I was going to England and France by myself. Met people on the plane; it was the way kids traveled then. Everybody else on the plane, or those I ended traveling with, had backpacks. I had a matching set of luggage, because my father was convinced that backpacks would kill me.
Before I left my father had to give me detailed instructions; over and over again. One was not to forget my Blue Cross/Blue Shield card. I was 20, in perfect health and exceptionally fit. Had to be to carry the luggage.
I didn’t forget my Blue Cross card. It would have been a mortal sin,
But as I kept on trying to explaining to my moustached, way too long side-burned successful CPA father, nobody in England, France, Greece, Spain (where I was supposed to go someday after leaving Israel) and Israel accepted Blue Cross.
Later in life, my father usually would look just like Hal Linden who is considerably younger. However there were times my father would let his hair grow too long; I called him Einstein, and he thought that was a compliment.
My father had certain quirks and one was an ability to believe what he wanted to believe. He could be so wrong and think he was so right.
I showed him my Blue Cross card at the airport. Somehow he kept on forgetting that.
I know this next memory is false; he couldn’t have possibly followed me onto the tarmac, and screamed:
“Do you have your Blue Cross card? Are you sure that you have your Blue Cross card…Blue Cross…Blue Cross?”
I like the memory though. Always have.
He was being installed as president of our community’s civic association that night. The woman in charge couldn’t understand why my parents had to be late.
He said; he really said:
“Are you kidding? I would get into the plane and parachute halfway from England to spend more time with her.”
He would have; even though he was scared of heights and couldn’t swim well. I could beat him by the time I was eight, and my dad took games and sports seriously. He never let me win unless I really had.
I learned early to ignore his diatribes. But his insistence on my taking my Blue Cross card on my maybe for six months; maybe for years trip, has always made me laugh.
I did get to backpack through England and France, though my backpack’s were matched luggage.
Irony; I love buying luggage. The Swiss Army Knife luggage company came out with pink luggage. Tried to buy pink, non ultra-suede luggage two years ago. Couldn’t. I actually have to walk on the other side of Broadway so I don’t pass the luggage store, because I absolutely don’t need it.
And I never lack good health insurance. It’s very very important to me. Can you blame me?
Proud to be a daddy’s girl who went her own way. Think he was secretly proud.