Macaroni Man: a new job for my dad?

After he started receiving Social Security benefits, my dad took a job tending a Goodwill donation trailer. He enjoyed this job, aside from the fact that it was outside which meant that he had to deal with the elements of weather. During the summer, you would find him huddled in the trailer in the most comfortable donated chair with a fan blowing, and in the winter he would take 5 minute breaks in his car with the heater running. But it really was the perfect job for him. It was relatively easy, provided him with some extra cash, gave him something to do, and allowed him time for walks around whatever parking lot he happened to be occupying. Oh, and when he was at Sam's, those walks included a pass thru the store for a snack of samples!

He no longer works for Goodwill but often talks of finding another part-time job. I have suggested on numerous occasions that he apply to be a greeter at Walmart, but he's not sure he would enjoy standing for so long. True, but I still think it's a good idea. Maybe they would let him bring his most comfortable chair! :-) But, as that's not an appealing option to him, I often find myself evaluating other opportunities.

Scott took me to the Macaroni Grill last night for a dinner date. It was my first time there, and I was enjoying the atmosphere and my company. At one point I heard singing... in Italian! I looked up and saw an older gentleman seranading one group at their table. He had a great voice, and it reminded me of my dad.

Growing up I remember hearing my dad randomly burst into song whether it was with radio accompaniment or not. Sometimes we'd be sitting in the living room and hear it coming from the bedroom or from the front porch. (Don't worry - if you think the neighbors thought that was weird, trust me - it was nothing compared to the cow moo's and coyote noises!) Those memories bring me a smile. Often he would do so along with Luciano Pavarotti, the famous member of The Three Tenors, an Italian trio. Though my dad is half Italian himself, he does not speak the language nor does he understand more than a few words, but he definitely inherited the voice. He just makes up his own version of Italian words and sings right along.

This singing man made his way around the restaurant and eventually ended up at our table. He didn't sing for us, but he told us he is called "The Macaroni Man." Aha! A new job for my dad. How 'bout it?