Memories and Pokemon

I have quite a few of these that are tied together, but the first that occurs to me is simple.

My mom and dad owned a condo in my hometown where they lived before they decided to have me. They moved to a house about seven months before I was born and rented out the condo. I remember one time my brother and me going with them to clean up the place after some particularly messy tenants (read: they were white trash pigs) left. We found cock roaches everywhere, and thus was born a stereotype about such arthropods that would last for years.

Then, when I was thirteen I guess my dad was helping my mom with some other tenants after he got off work and while she was still busy with hers (they were divorced by then, too). All I remember is playing in the grass with my other toys and thinking about the AWESOME toys he bought for me. An early victim of Pokemon and the obsession with Japan, I had found these human Pokemon figure sets straight from Japan.

Ash and Misty
Jessie and James
Brock and Nurse Joy

All were $25 a pop...and he got me all three just because I asked him to. Because he was trying to be the best dad ever. And you know what? Now that I think about it, he was pretty good. He got me a Furby (that I didn't even want...), Pokemon toys from Burger King along with Toy Story ones years before, bought me most of my Blue Gender DVD collection.

He did a lot besides buy me stuff, but this is where my mind goes when I think about him sometimes. Often he wasn't there for me emotionally, but he tried on many other levels that I often overlook.

He took me to the orthodontist often. He took  me and my best bud to see the first Pokemon flick. He stood inline for toys he thought would mean so much to me. He helped me ditch school sometimes.

So I guess I mean this partly as a tribute to my dad and what I think about when I remember my early obsession with Pocket Monsters.

So, I love you, Dad.

And I'll keep trying to catch them all.

(Pokemon! Oh, you're my best friend in a world I must defend.)