By Bob Morris
What might you do in the event that your eighty-year-old father dragged you into his hell-bent hunt for brand spanking new love?
A few months after the dying of his spouse, Joe Morris, an affable, eccentric octogenarian, wishes a alternative. If he can get a brand new hip, he figures, why no longer a brand new spouse? in the beginning, his skeptical son Bob (whose personal love existence is a catastrophe) is appalled. yet suspicion quick turns to enthusiasm as he reveals himself trolling the personals, screening customers, chaperoning, and delivering etiquette easy methods to his needy father. Assisted Loving is a hot, witty, and wacky chronicle of a father, a son, and their yr of relationship dangerously.
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Extra resources for Assisted Loving: True Tales of Double Dating with My Dad
That’s the worst factor you are able to do! ” He nudges me apart to get to my oven and sticks his nostril in it. Then he is going off to put out the gravlax and crackers he introduced from Dean & Deluca. i might by no means store at such a dear meals shop, now not for myself or a person else. yet together with his fixation on caliber garments, hair items, and linens, he's obsessed with nutrients. It should be of the very best quality, the most up to date, the leanest, the most costly. whilst he brings me a slice of his gravlax, impeccably garnished with capers and a dollop of crème fraîche on pumpernickel, I swoon. I take the lamb out of the oven and begin carving it. Ira hovers. I’m fearful. I don’t desire somebody within the kitchen, having a look over my shoulder like a culinary moral sense, judging what a lazy, clueless chef i'm. “Hey! That’s now not the way you slice a lamb,” he says. “Give me that carving knife and get out of my method! ” I giggle a apprehensive snicker and step apart. who's this individual in my kitchen? A pushy character with a noisy voice, loud go well with, hair and nostril nearly as huge as my very own, and shtick so shticky I name him Shecky. “What do Michael Jackson and Kmart have in universal? ” he asks, as I pop the champagne he introduced. “Boys’ pants—half off! ” “Oy” is all i will deal with in answer. Later, he's very responsive to my 3 dinner site visitors, previous university friends whom I don’t see frequently. We made last-minute plans to social gathering, and that i fearful they wouldn’t connect to Ira. yet every thing flows splendidly. He’s a superb conversationalist. good, who wouldn’t be amused to listen to him discuss turning into a donor dad? It seems a few his sturdy lesbian acquaintances sought him out for the task. So Ira went throughout the right clinical checks, signed a few papers giving up paternity to maintain issues uncomplicated, after which, one evening no longer in the past, with a whole moon shining, he bought their name to come back by way of, and introduced his items in a baby-food jar that he had boiled to be sterile. “And now my good friend is 3 months pregnant,” he says. “I hit it at the first try out. ” My site visitors chortle. and that i locate myself beaming on the chance of a bit baby in our lives. the assumption of turning into a few type of a brand new uncle with Ira is scrumptious. i do know I’m prior to myself. yet it’s New Year’s Eve, the 1st person who I’m now not by myself for in years. within the kitchen, he strikes so expertly that serving dinner is easy. i believe comfy in a manner that I by no means am whilst I entertain. He’s so able, vigorous, and amusing—my buddies are charmed. So am I. I chill out and, with no need to do a specific thing, watch everybody having fun with each other in a fashion that strangers not often do on New Year’s Eve. It’s as though we’ve been wonderful as a pair without end. Later, we drop by way of to work out his associates round the nook. Then we hit a fancy New Year’s Eve social gathering at Trump Tower. It’s a raucous crowd of wannabes and already-ares, visitors of their thirties and forties. Dapper males, skinny ladies with plump lips. Actor right here. writer there. It ladies. Implants. Veuve. and each bartender appears like an lingerie version, lifting bottles on the bar like barbells.