December 16, 2006 10:24 pm
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By Anne E. Kettenbrink
Globe columnist
Last weekend, I got the opportunity to do something I will probably never get to do again. I was the grand marshal of a Christmas parade. Sort of.
Really, my dad was the grand marshal. He just let me ride along in the car and wave at people and toss candy. But, for me, that counts.
See, my dad is sort of a local celebrity in my hometown. He’s an anchor with one of the local television stations, and he’s worked there for almost 40 years, ever since he got out of college. He’s done practically every job at the TV station there is to do, from reporting to doing live advertisements (back when tape was too expensive) and finally anchoring.
When my brother and I lived with my parents, we would go out to dinner and, inevitably, at least one person would stop at our table and say hello. Dad was cordial and would talk to these people, and I always had to ask when they left if he actually knew them or not. Most of the time he didn’t.
I always thought my dad being a local celebrity was kind of cool. I mean, we never got the perks that real celebrities do, but it was fun. For some reason, kids at school thought we were different because our dad was on TV. They also thought we were really rich. Apparently, they didn’t know how much journalism pays.
Anyway, someone must have thought my dad would make a good grand marshal, so he was invited to lead the Christmas parade this year.
When I heard this, I thought it was really neat, although he seemed to think it was no big deal. I thought it was so neat that I wrangled myself an invitation to ride in the car with him. And it was fun.
We waved at all the little kids and adults, said Merry Christmas and threw candy. It was nice to see people we didn’t know being friendly and waving back, but, of course, the kids were only interested in the candy.
The point of all this is that it started me thinking about the kind of person my dad is. He’s always thrived on people knowing who he is, but not in a vain way. He just likes to know people and be involved in things.
He does like to be in the spotlight; what person on TV doesn’t? Usually, his methods for stealing the spotlight are based on some sort of horrid joke he’s told 800 times before. That doesn’t stop people from laughing, though.
People like my dad and remember him. They think my dad is cool. He does his own thing and is not apologetic about it.
He doesn’t care if you groan at how wretched his joke is; he’s still going to tell it, and you’re probably still going to laugh.
He takes most things in stride and has a sense of humor about himself and his own life. Those are probably the best qualities I inherited from him. It’s easy to laugh at others, but it’s not so easy to laugh at yourself. If you have the ability to laugh at yourself, life doesn’t get you down quite so often.
I am a lot like my dad in many ways. The older I get, the more noticeable it is. But the more I think about it, I want to be like my dad.
Address correspondence to Anne E. Kettenbrink, c/o The Joplin Globe, P.O. Box 7, Joplin, Mo. 64802, or via e-mail, akettenbrink@joplinglobe.com.
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