In anticipation of the upcoming release of my novel, Call Me Daddy, I asked for stories about family: the fun, the inspirational, the heartwarming moments that make us part of a family. Author Erica Lucke Dean talks about her dad and his 'affiliation':
I’m pretty sure I have an FBI file. I can only imagine what it says, but there’s no question in my mind that it exists. My phones are probably tapped. My house is probably being watched by one of those spy satellites that stalk subversives. My name is probably on a TSA watch list. Why? Well, it’s not because I lie about my weight—I do lie about my weight, but that’s beside the point.
My father, who I love dearly and have the utmost respect for, is one of the co-founders of a patriots group formed by Tea Partiers in Pennsylvania. He goes on marches. He has meetings. I don’t know what they talk about at these meetings, but his wife says she can’t understand them, so I’m guessing they don’t speak in the same language as the rest of us. I’m not certain, but I think he may have built a self sustaining bomb shelter in his basement, where he is cranking out elaborate artillery disguised as reproduction furniture. I’ve seen the pictures of him using a sewing machine, but he can’t fool me. Those weren’t chair cushions he was making. He’s a card carrying member of the NRA with a framed picture of Charlton Heston hanging over his work bench—okay, I might be kidding about that—and a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Something he apparently never leaves home without, because my father is certain we’re only moments away from the next revolution. And maybe he’s right. Even if he does think Sarah Palin’s smart.
Dad thinks everyone should be armed—sort of like the old west, I imagine. Back in the day when you could shoot a man for looking at your horse funny and it would be considered a justifiable homicide. My stepmother also has a permit to carry a weapon, and she carries her gun just in case my dad goes nuts and she has to take him down. I can’t imagine what sort of scenario would have to occur for that to happen, but I’m sure she’d be up to the task if it came to that.
I don’t know exactly when my father became so politically involved, but I’m not surprised by his “all in” approach. He’s always been a believer in the philosophy, “if you’re going to do something, you may as well be the best at it.” I’ve always strived to be the best at everything I do, and I’m sure that’s something I learned from my dad. I’m a good singer, a pretty good writer, I bake a mean chocolate chip cookie, and I can’t be beat at trivia. However, none of these things require me to carry a gun, and that’s probably a good thing, because I’ve never been very coordinated, and I would probably shoot my toes off or something.
Just for the record—listen up all you FBI guys out there—I don’t belong to any political groups or clubs. I’ve never been to a rally. I didn’t even remember to register to vote until last week. Maybe I should get more involved, but for now I’ll leave that up to my dad. He’s semi-retired, which means he actually has more jobs than I do, and far more qualified to storm the Bastille than I am. But mark my words, people, if you see him coming, you’d better get out of the way!
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