Wednesday, August 10, 2005

treat me right

The objective: to create the date by which all dates are measured. To be the date by which all dates are assessed. To set a standard that cannot possibly be realized.
So I hyped the evening for two months - you will be in heaven, I told her. This is no ordinary one-on-one time. This is a memory maker.
The day arrived, I opened the car door for my daughter, safely secured her, and drove off into an evening of adventure. After three hours in the car, we pulled into the parking lot of House of Blues, Myrtle Beach.
“Cool Dad, there’s House of Blues.”
“Let’s eat there,” I said.
“Really?” she replied.
We ate on the patio and watched the alligators being fed across the pond in back. After dinner, we walked around the place and took pics to document this wonderful date of dinner at HOB. “Wait ‘till I tell my friends,” she said.
At just the right moment, we meandered our way into the concert hall and were searched, scanned, stamped and tagged. This was a very secret part of HOB, I told her.
Once inside, we wandered about the place until the music began. Once Oppera, finished their set, Molly said, “Dad, that was a great date.” Not over yet hon.
She was suspicious of all the paraphernalia about the place, but still not sure, until she heard the announcer say, “please welcome Pat Benatar.”
Molly’s a big fan.
After the concert, she was giddy. We drove down to the Pavilion and walked in the surf until midnight.
Dinner at HOB on the patio, Pat Benatar live, a midnight walk on the beach, all with an adoring Daddy – beat that, future suitors. Do it right, or don’t come ‘round. Molly’s got memories by which to measure you. Open your eyes and maybe you’ll see the light.
Dad rocks!

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