According to flickr, this is my most popular photo, with a total of 396 views. I was stalking this strange, muscular man a few years ago at Burger King, with Henry’s kids as my accomplices.
I’m not sure what makes this photo so popular, but I wish I could find a way to learn this man’s identity because I bet he would be flattered to know.
This was Henry on the way home that day, all sparkly-eyed and Cheshire-smiles after a lovely afternoon of antagonizing strangers with a camera. I think Henry typically felt left out when lumped in with me and his kids, because that’s when his unabashed doofness was most apparent.
He locked the car windows on us that day. Now his kids are too busy getting tattoos and going to metal shows to join me in heckling their father, but at least they’ve found new ways to continue the Great Gray Hair Count.
I don’t know why Henry looks so annoyed in that picture because I can attest with absolute clarity that this day was nowhere near as humiliating for him as the day the cable guys were at our house and his kids and I were sneaking pictures of Henry trying to talk cable with them and generally act like he was some sort of George Clooney in a bandanna. Like maybe they wouldn’t see through his facade and invite him out for a brewsky and some sausage. We sat in the dining room and giggled every time the one cable guy would bend over and his crack would smile out at us. Henry would turn around and hiss for us to knock it off, but that would make us act even more assholey. His one son, Blake, stuck an unlit cigarette in his mouth and pretended to chug beer at one point, making Henry appear to be Father of the Millenium.
Hopefully when Chooch gets a little older, we can resurrect those golden days of watching gray hairs sprout from Henry’s scalp.