My Best Friend….My Dad
~ Rich Muller ~
My dad's 92nd
birthday is today. I sit here and think “where has the time gone?” I think back
of all the awesome times that I shared with my dad. My dad was a photographer
(long before the digital age and the internet) and he would work a lot of
weddings, take portraits, and snap pictures for organizations such as the local
Little League or the Boy Scouts. We used to go on these road trips just about
once a week, in which he would have to drive about an hour and half away to
deliver pictures to a Boy Scout camp in North Jersey. He had this Ford Galaxy
which he called his “sacred cow” that he loved and always took special care of.
Under his driver’s seat, he had a cassette player, and he would play all this
German music; the polka, beer hall, German bands, etc. He would blast the music
all the time and I even got pretty good at “singing” the German lyrics. The rides
home were always glorious. We would stop by the huge railroad station in
Princeton to watch the trains come and go….man, how I loved watching those
things whiz by! Then we would go to out to this diner and I would always get
the same thing to eat….a cheeseburger, fries, and homemade lemon lime
soda..hmmmm! I can still taste it to this day.
My father
was an only child and he never, I mean, NEVER played sports or knew anything
about athletics. He always was found reading a book and listening to symphonies
but when my brother and I started playing Little League, he always came to our
games, watched, and of course, took pictures. He used to take the pictures in
such a way, that when he had the film developed, the pictures looked like baseball
cards. We had our own baseball cards!!!!! Now THAT was AWESOME!! All the kids
in our neighborhood used to congregate at our house and we would play baseball,
literally, all day. It was such a spellbinding, magical moment when, for that
one short time, my dad came out and tried to play. We thought that was the
coolest thing ever….even if he wasn’t that good :)
My dad had
his own little Photography Studio in a sleepy, seaside New Jersey town. It was always a magical time when I walked
into his shop, viewed all the pictures that he took, smelled the chemicals from
the Dark Room, saw his set-ups that he would use for his photo shoots. In the autumn,
every Saturday after the local high school would finish their football game,
they would have a parade down Main Street if they won. It was a wonderful
experience sitting there in front of his shop watching the players,
cheerleaders and the band while drinking an ice cold soda. On most Saturdays my brother and I would meet
him at his shop and we would go across the street and eat awesome pizza or
baked lasagna then play Pac-Man while we were waiting for the food to come out.
It seemed like everywhere we went, everyone knew my dad and he knew them. It
was really sort of cool. After church each Sunday, we would go to the bakery in
town and get freshly made Jewish rye bread. Man, was that GOOD! The bread would
still be warm from coming out of the oven. The crust would be nice and crispy
and the bread itself, moist and chewy. Then we would go to his studio and watch
cartoons and eat snacks while watching Bugs Bunny cartoons. On our way home, he
would tell my brother and I to make sure that we ate a lot during the Sunday
dinner so that my grandma and mom wouldn’t get mad.
Since we
lived around the ocean, my dad would take us fishing around some boating piers
and occasionally fish at the beach itself, surf casting. But most of the time,
we fished by the piers trying to catch Snappers (or baby bluefish) around
dinner time and stayed there until the sun went down. There was nothing better
in life then to sit by those piers, drinking a Welsh’s grade soda, watching
beautiful sunsets and watching the moon and stars begin their nightly dance. We
would find sticks and try to hit the Jellyfish to watch them glow (that’s what
they do when they get touched at night).
So, here I
sit today, my dad’s 92nd birthday, smiling to myself remembering the
many special times that I shared with him. Today, his photography studio is
gone, the bakery sold out years ago, the diner is no longer there, the Boy Scout
camp was disbanded a long time ago and all of my neighborhood friends have all
moved away. He lives by himself in a retirement home reading books and
listening to symphonies just like he used to do. My love and admiration of my
father will never go away and will forever be in my heart…..for my father will
always be more than my dad….he will eternally be my best friend.
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richmullercoach@gmail.com
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Live. Laugh. Love.
Great memories!
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday, Mr. Muller!
Jose Miguel
Really nice memories, Rich. Made me think of my Dad and everything he taught me over the years....
ReplyDeleteNice, Rich!!! I remember the car and the German music, especially on the way to church. Your dad still hasn't lost his 'unique' sense of humor. I always thought is was great that I was one of the few people besides you guys that could understand him. Happy Birthday, Mr. Muller!!
ReplyDeleteAngel