During World War Two my father, a then-17-year-old mariner in the in Merchant Marine, spent some time in Panama. One night, he and his fellow mariners left their ship, went ashore and tied one on in a local bar. My father woke up the next morning in a strange bed. He rolled over, and found he was sharing it with a toothless, wrinkled Panamanian crone. She woke up and gave him a gummy smile. He screamed, jumped into his clothes and ran all the way back to the ship.
It’s amazing how much I take after my father. My mother and I sound alike, and I have some of her mannerisms, but I have my father’s build, coloring, features, attention to detail, and sense of humor. Thanks to her uplifting holiday tale, I found out we have something else in common: the world’s thickest beer goggles.