D. Enzmann's dad was strange. He had fuzzy, crazy black and white eyebrows like caterpillars above his glasses. D was a late baby and so Mr. Enzmann always seemed more like a grandpa then a dad. He was odd--walked around in his boxer shorts and was absent-minded in a kind of goofy way.
Wallis' dad had a moustache. He was a divorced dad, only showed up once a month to take Wallis out and Wallis often didn't want to go with him and so brought me. He took us horseback riding and paid for both of us, out of guilt for remarrying the woman he had an affair with while married to Wallis' mother. He didn't talk much.
I never met Diana's dad. She didn't talk about him. She had a weird stepdad who was too friendly to all of us. Nothing happened, at least not to me. Lynn's dad was dead by the time I met; he had a heart attack. They had so much stuff in their house, these women and girls, that it seemed like he had been gone for a long time.
My friends Jess and Jodie have guy-like dads, dads who like sports and are jovial and friendly and always look me in the eye. Jodie's dad is generous and has a heavy Pittsburgh accent and a moustache.
It occurs to me that I've known and do know lots of dad's with moustaches; almost none with beards. My dad has/had one. He was a cowboy in the rodeo for awhile. I like to tell people that because I feel like it makes me more interesting, and also it's one of the few things I know about him. That and that he has a heart murmur and had bypass surgery. Oh, and one blue eye and one green eye. My eyes are hazel. The only photo we had was this one Kodak picture of him sitting in my grandparent's living room. His legs were crossed and so the most in focus part of the picture is the bottom of his shoe. And a couple of news paper clippings. He played basketball in high school. His first name is Lars, but they called him Butch. I didn't call him today. I don't have his phone number and haven't been in contact with him for lots of years and it would've been awkward anyway. He yawns when he's nervous, trying to appear more casual than he feels, and he yawns most of his way through any conversations we have.