Adrian? Ambrose... are you there?

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I cannot resist the urge anymore... there's just too much here to ignore.

Three years before my dad died I dropped in for a visit to his home in Minneapolis. He didn't hear me knock so I let myself in through the kitchen door. The TV was on and very loud as dad's hearing had deteriorated a bit over the years, probably the after effects of raising 5 kids.

Background - Dad & Mom were married for a little over 40 years before cancer claimed Mom in 1988. Dad grieved inconsolably for about 2 years and then miraculously snapped out of it. He started keeping company with "a new gal." WE, the kids, were flabbergasted but unbelievably happy for Dad as he didn't hide his depressive stretches very well and we were starting to worry. His life had done a total 180 and he was back to his old self, laughing and making loving, pointedly funny comments about all his kid folk. In June of 1991 he announced that he was getting married... you could have heard a pin drop when the news came out. In a family gathering we just all kind of stared at each other and tried to drink it all in and then, almost unanimously, came to the conclusion that this was a good thing, no check that, a GREAT thing for Dad. Who deserved happiness more than him? And, you could tell he was happy. My concern, my only concern was the age differences between Dad and his new bride to be - they were 25 years apart. His betrothed was my sister's age. This took a little thought on my part to get some kind of perspective on how this all fit together and was this person just kind of a gold-digger looking to capture my father's pension and take him for a ride? My fears were groundless as this woman turned out to be the epitome of nicety and wholesomeness, well mostly. In addition, she was the church secretary, an accomplished musician (plays 3 instruments) and directed all 3 choirs at a very large Catholic Church. As we later found out, after they had been married for a couple of year, we discovered that she also had a wickedly funny sense of humor and could freely ask hard questions of the church she loved to death. As my Dad would say (he wouldn't say this about her because it would be inappropriate) "She is a real pistol!" They lived happily ever after until my Dad died in 2003. { Beginning of another post (Dad died of a broken heart) }
I feel like my "step-Mom"needs more depth and you need to know a bit more about her, but she deserves her own space, so I'll put that on the back burner for now. ~


I walked into the living room amid snickers from my Dad. They weren't directed at me but rather at the TV. I startled him as he still hadn't heard all the commotion i made coming in. He said "hi" and then said "you've gotta' watch this." It was Monk, in my book a so-so detective dramedy set in San Francisco (if you don't know the premise of the show go and Google it and come back later). I had no context for what scene I was watching but I obediently sat down and didn't say a word until commercial. At commercial Dad began to extol to me the wonders of this show and relate all these funny anecdotes, which meant absolutely nothing to me at the time.
Nearly every time after that when I would come for a visit, there was always something Monk related, either the show itself or a funny Monk story that would be part of our conversation. Maybe not a lot but it a held a permanent spot in his life. Dad was always a cop show kind of guy and gravitated towards the real action type shows (Mannix, Yancy Derringer, Rockford Files (fav), Magnum PI, Hawaii 5-0, the Untouchables... you get the picture). I could tell he fancied himself as one of those detectives in the shoot 'em up solve the crime, capture the bad guys kind of way. Monk on the other hand, wasn't the same cup of detective tea. Monk is cerebral, quirky, efficient, endlessly OC and devoted to his deceased wife Trudy who was murdered(?) by a member of the criminal element (a recurrent and underlying theme to most of the episodes). I really don't know if the Trudy thing was the "hook" for my Dad but he loved that show with a passion. I can't picture him as Monk, though.
After Dad died, within a few months actually, I was sitting home alone one night channel surfing and came across Monk on cable. I buzzed by it and then, for some reason, something told me to go back and give it a look. Remember it like it was yesterday - I could hear my Dad chuckling and snickering in front of the TV as real as if I were back in his living room. Thinking about it now the hair stands up on the back of my neck and a trace of goosebumps is roaming nearby. I obediently went back to Monk and finished watching the current episode, totally unfulfilled as there was only a few minutes left in the show, which made me slightly irritated for wasting valuable surfing time for just a snippet. As is often the norm with cable, there were back to back episodes, much to my surprise, so I decided to get the full picture. Randy Newman's Monk (It's A Jungle Out There) theme song started to play, which is always a good thing (Short People, I Love L.A. are primo), so I sat back with a diet-pepsi and took it in. I thought to myself: "Damn, that wasn't bad at all and that Monk guy has something about him that makes you laugh and squirm at the same time." And he was so eerily right all the time (I give the credit to Trudy) it made you want to give the show a second bite. I'm not ashamed to say that I developed a love for the show that may have even exceeded my Dad's. It has a inexplicable magnetism to a very select group of people, and I consider myself to be one of the lucky ones that "gets" Monk.
The best part of it, and maybe one of the most frustrating too, is that I share time with my Dad every time I happen to pull up in front of the TV with a Monk episode. He's there and I know which parts would make him smile and smirk and it makes me smile just to think about it. Sadly for Monk fans, they stopped making new episodes but the old ones have not as yet worn out their welcome with me. I love spending time with Monk, and Sharona and Natalie, and Ambrose, and dip shit Randy and Leland... and Trudy, when she would visit Adrian (in dream state), usually in his bedroom. Their relationship was breathtaking - they shared, they laughed, they loved.

I don't watch much TV... baseball, college hoops some, Law & Order (maybe over the top) and Monk.
Monk provides me with one of two rock solid connections to my Dad. The other requires a whole different story, so if interested... come visit again.

Life is, indeed, a funny old dog and there are no coincidences. I believe that.