Gordyisms

I am 61 years old and realize that I am bordering on obnoxious, as I continue to talk about my Dad.  I have always talked about him, but now it seems as so many of his words and explanations of life just cry out to be shared.  During my  early adult life, I never stopped to think that he was profound.  I knew he could be a bit unusual at times, but  it was part of life with Gordy.  Everyone who knew Gordy knew that my Dad just DID things that no one else did.  We loved to tell the stories about his mischief and humor and enjoyed them over and over.  Suddenly, there were messages in those stories that had become clear to me.

When I was still working, I would often blurt out one of his favorite phrases.  My boss would always laugh out loud and ask me "whatever made you say that?"  or "you come up with these phrases that are just perfect for the occasion, but I have never heard them before."  After a while we began to call them "Gordyisms".   One day he said "You really should write a book and call it Gordyisms. "

"Now, you're cooking with gas!"  was a particular favorite of his and also worked well at work when my staff was doing a great job.  Back in 1960,  I heard that as I was finally balancing on my bike or learning to tie my shoes.  As soon as he said it, I knew I had accomplished whatever he was teaching.  His lessons were often lengthy and complicated, but I never knew that because he was keeping my mind so busy in the process.  Learning to ride a bike began with discussing just where I would like to go, once I could "ride like the wind".  He made me feel like an adult, expecting that I could do whatever he directed, so....I did.

One day when I was about 10 years old, I told him I wanted my bedroom painted blue.  He asked me if I was sure that it was worth all the work and expense.  I had to think about both for a minute before I asked if it cost a lot.  Of course, I never dreamed that the work was going to be done by ME.  He responded by telling me to get out my pencil and paper so we could do some math.
 (Hidden Lesson #1)

"How much does paint cost?"
Me:  "I don't know!"
"Well, the first thing you need to know, is if you can afford your project.  How would you find out?"
Me:  "Ask the man at the hardware store?"  (Learn to problem solve)
"Get the phone book and look up the number"  (Learn to use alphabet & phone book. It WAS 1964)
Me:  "Ok, here is the number...."
"It's not MY project.  Call the man.  Tell him you want to paint your bedroom and you need to know how much a gallon of paint costs and don't forget to ask about a brush, a roller and a paint pan"

Feeling torn between very grown up and very unsure of myself, I dialed the old rotary phone.  Amazing, but the man at the hardware helped me through my project costs.  However, then I had to add up the numbers, since there were no handy calculators.   After giving my Dad the total, he checked my math, got up and said "I will drive since you can't reach the pedals, but if I pay, you are doing the rest of the work on this project, ok?"

Dad handed me the money and told me to be sure to check my change was correct....

HE SAT IN THE CAR AND WAITED WHILE I WENT IN AND PURCHASED ALL THE SUPPLIES BY MYSELF!  He believed in me, so I had to believe in me....

(Teaching total self confidence in one big reality moment!  )

My Dad returned to his chair, opened a cold can of beer and began to watch Saturday baseball.  I stood there with my purchases and waited.....

"You had better go and clear that room unless you want blue paint on everything."
(Was this project really worth it?)

An hour later, he showed me how to cover my furniture with old drop cloths and patiently watched as I learned to stir the paint and helped me pour the first bit into the pan.  He showed me how to roll the roller and apply the first swipe.  Then he said...."Let me know when you are done!"

My mother was having fits in the background.  He just waved his hand at her and told her to leave me alone so I could paint my room.  I think back now and laugh.  She must have been a Saint.  The first thing I did was to paint a huge heart in the middle of the wall.  I was having a ball with that paint.  Then I took a break.....but when I returned to cover the heart, it showed through my attempt!  I called my Dad and he sat there and laughed and laughed.  "Guess you learned  a lesson here, Pal!"

Eventually we covered that heart together and I kept painting.  He would poke his head in and say "Now, you're cookin' with gas!"  I felt like I was 10 feet tall and all grown up.  By the end of the day my room was blue.   My body and clothes were blue, the floor was speckled in blue and I have never been so proud of myself.  I had painted away to the sound of the radio on a summer afternoon all by myself.

I didn't realize until years later all the lessons I had learned that day or even think that I had worked really hard.  As my brother often remarked, our Dad gave us the ability to learn by doing.  He showed us the steps, but let us take them on our own.  He expected that we succeed and was nearby to guide without taking over, ever!  How many times as a parent do we take that much time, when it would be far easier to do the project yourself?   What a fantastic gift to give a child!

So, when the project is going well...I catch myself saying "NOW, you're cookin' with gas!"