"Q" is for "Quartet"

This is a funny story about MGD's (Monkey Girl's Dad) father - and Monkey Girl's Grampie. He passed away in 1997 at the age of 82. Just a couple of months before Monkey Girl was born. So she never knew Grampie, but she is like him in so many ways and I remind her of these similarities when I see them in her.

His name was John and I adored him and I miss him. He cracked me up. He was like any "old man" character you ever saw all rolled into one - he could be grumpy, but even then it was funny, at least to me.  He was very active, was a Master Gardener and would work in his yard daily from sun up to sun down, he exercised religiously and days before his death he could put his ankles behind his ears. I shit you not. I thought he would outlive me, he seemed to be THAT healthy.

And he was just a cut-up who always seemed to have a smile on his face. Here he is hamming it up trying on his wife's jacket one year at our house for Christmas. He pranced around like he was a lady and even grabbed her purse and kidded that he would go to the mall dressed like that. Just good fun.

He was also a member of an a cappella barbershop quartet that he had belonged to for decades. So on his 80th birthday his daughter had ordered a cake made with 4 very large barbershop quartet heads on it, complete with mustaches, straw brim hats and bow ties under their chin. It was an awesome cake and a large party with several of his friends and family members there.

Let me explain that MGD's family is a very conservative Christian family. Sexual innuendos or politically incorrect jokes just didn't occur at family gatherings... that was until I joined the family. They really didn't know what to think of me.

On John's 80th birthday, his sister cut the cake and I handed out servings to people. The first piece she cut was a barbershop quartet head of a guy that resembled John, so of course I served that piece to him. 

But I just couldn't resist - it's one of those moments where there's an angel and devil on your shoulder... the angel whispered "Don't, it's not proper..." and the devil cackled and said "Do it, it's freakin' hilarious.... bwahahah."  Well, the devil won.

As I handed him the piece, I said to John in a voice a little louder than normal, "Here John, how would you like a little head for your birthday?"

Silence.

All mouths were frozen in a gasp, eyes widened in horror that such an inappropriate comment came out of my mouth.

Then John laughed - bellowed, actually and the tension was broken while others chuckled along, although clearly not everyone approved of my little joke. Then he waved his cake at the old men in the crowd and exclaimed "Not many 80 year olds can say they got some head on their birthday, huh?" And the men laughed even harder.

Much to the chagrin of his wife, John continued to re-tell that moment to any new ear that would listen until he died.

After the party, MGD scolded me for being so crass in front of his family. Psshhaww... screw him if he can't take a joke.