with love, big foot

I've described my childhood in some detail over the years... and I would say it doesn't differ much from that of my younger brother's- same setting, same set of characters (give or take a few friends), same weekend antics, same boredom extinguishers (give or take a few different hobbies). We both have the shared experience of living next door to our grandparents (both sets on either side of our house), and we both have very vivid memories of spending hours upon hours with them in the dead of summer or on lazy Sunday afternoons.

There was something especially unique about the time we spent with my mom's dad.  Even on the rainiest nothing days, there was never a dull moment with him.  It's almost torture to restrain myself from cataloging the many ways he could entertain us (playing Wagner at full volume in his painting studio, dancing around his 10' tall paintings with his painting stick in hand, instructing me to be one singing angel while he is another is one of my personal favorites), but trust me when I tell you this.  I never got the sense he was doing it for us.  He seemed to enjoy spending time with us as much as we did him- in the most ridiculous ways- and always ending the same way: my grandma shutting things down with a big meal.

My brother, Joey, partook in the alien/BigFoot/space documentary marathons more than I did, but I can attest to the impressive VHS archive (complete with typewriter printed labels) in my Grandfather's filing cabinet.  My grandfather, leaning back in his recliner, slippers (I mean "house shoes"), dangling off the end.  And my brother, anywhere from 6 years old to around 14 years old, sitting cross-legged a foot away from the enormous television on their pristine grey carpet.  Venetian blinds drawn to avoid a glare.  The smell of grandma's simmering sauce always accompanying the unmistakable sounds and look of seventies nonfiction film.  Together they shared a love of the paranormal.  I loved it also, but as an outsider appreciating the novelty of such experiences.  Half embarrassed, half proud by my oddball family that truly believes in UFOs and BigFoot.

I wish I could take partial credit for this special birthday card my brother made for our grandpa.  But my only contribution can be testifying that this video was real.  And on repeat in my memory.  What my talented brother can throw together in a couple of days is epic in my eyes.

Happy 87th birthday, Grandpa.

 
A Birthday Card from Joseph Bennett on Vimeo.