My Dad, The Ruiner.
One of my good friends and I have made a habit of it for years to go to a Patriots road game, and last night, we found ourselves in section 225 of the Georgia Dome in Atlanta for the Pats (somewhat) surprising 30 to 23 win over the Falcons.
Anyway, for all the yelling and hootin’ & hollerin’ I did at the game, nothing elicited a bigger reaction than a text that I didn’t see coming from my dad. You can see that text below.
Please note the time that this text was received. A mere minutes after the end of the final episode of Breaking Bad. I realize, what with social media sites like Twitter avoiding spoilers would be next to impossible throughout the night, but I had purposely done so, and was doing a pretty damn good job of doing so up until I received this text.
Really though, what’s most surprising, and why I screamed out expletives while surrounded by a bunch of strangers (and children) was that up until this weekend, my dad didn’t even WATCH Breaking Bad.
I had spoken to him just a few days earlier, and when I had asked him what he had BLARING in the background, he said “Oh, the Breaking Bad marathon.”
Puzzled, because I’ve recently only known my dad to watch Seinfeld reruns, Football, and anything that’s on the History channel, I asked him “if he’s been watching the whole time, and are you caught up?” to which he answered “No.”
I thought nothing of this, because why should I?
I just figured that my dad had heard enough of this show being talked about non stop by pretty much everyone in the country, saw that it was on, and just left it on in the background while he went about his Dad stuff like fixing things and falling asleep on the couch.
But nope. Apparently, my dad had gotten himself so invested into the show over a day’s worth of viewing, that he felt the need to share with me the ending, because he knew I cared about the show.
Either that, or my dad decided that for whatever reason, he’d channel one of my asshole friends, and troll me as some sort of gag or comeuppance.
I’m going to go with the latter, because for years, when I had an afternoon radio show on a now defunct Alt. Rock station in Boston, I used to pride myself on doing an (admittedly childish) “bit” where I’d ruin the endings to movies or television shows just to get a rise out of people.
I did this, because it’s never ceased to amaze me just how upset people get about this kind of thing. Like, I feel most people could hear about a bus load of children driving off of a cliff on the evening news and react with nothing more than a shrug. Yet, tell those same people that “Omar gets killed by Kinard when he’s just trying to buy a pack of Newports” if they’ve just started watching the Wire, and they’ll be looking to have you drawn and quartered.
I never really understood that reaction, and always laughed at those kinds of people because their priorities are seemingly so whacked.
Until now. I wasn’t so much boiling with rage from my dad’s text, as I was pure and utter shock. I got it. I finally realized why people reacted the way they did when things got ruined for them with spoilers.
Stupid poetic justice and karmic retribution. It ALWAYS comes back to get you.
photo via wikimedia commons