My Thrifty, Nifty Dad

I've been told many times in my life that I'm "just like my dad". I've always taken this as a compliment, though it was oftentimes not intended as one. Me and my dad are very different people in many ways, but we're both thrifty, silly, sarcastic, goofballs who try not to take life too seriously.

I was born in San Jose, California, and lived there with my family until we moved to Idaho when I was seven years old. This move and the sale of our California house put a lot of stress on our family, and it essentially marked the end of my parents' marriage. In Idaho, I remained living with my mother and sisters, and only saw my dad about a couple times a month for the duration of my childhood and adolescent years. He held odd jobs such as a pizza delivery man for Domino's and a laborer for a large slaughterhouse, but his longest lasting job was as a long-haul trucker. He took a lot of pride in his job, which entailed delivering everything from a trailer full of frozen burger patties to fast food restaurants, to clothes and toiletries to supermarkets. When I first got to go inside my dad's work truck, I was in awe. It had an actual bed in it, a CB radio which enabled him to talk to other truckers, and even a little TV. My nine-year-old mind was thoroughly impressed. My dad was the coolest.

I knew my dad was cool and funny, but even at a young age I recognized his flaws. One thing my father always struggled with was knowing what gifts to get us for our birthdays and Christmas. He didn't see us often enough to keep up with our ever-changing tastes, so usually his gifts left us a bit puzzled. Also, he never had much money, and the money he did have he was very careful with. That is to say he was a total cheapskate. It was either my 11th or 12th birthday that he gave me a a gift basket that was partially enclosed in torn plastic wrap. It was filled with potpourri, soaps, and bath salts. He explained that it was ripped because it had fallen off his work trailer. It was part of a load full of gift baskets that he was delivering to a chain store. He had been lucky enough to find me a birthday present for free!

Another unfortunate instance involved the Christmas gift my dad got for my older sister Meagan one year. She was in her mid-20s at the time and he got her a large stuffed animal. There is nothing wrong with adults owning or even collecting stuffed animals, but Meagan wasn't one of them. She was perplexed by this gift, but thanked him anyway. After all, it's the thought that counts, right? We aren't ungrateful daughters. Plus, I'm sure he got a really good deal on it, and that always mattered.

The saying "one man's trash is another man's treasure" was probably first uttered with my dad in mind. One of his favorite pastimes has always been taking walks, particularly ones near railroad tracks. He has always been amazed at the really good free stuff you could find on the train tracks. Once he found a T-shirt on the tracks that had a picture of cartoon ducks playing in a rock-and-roll band and read "Sex, Ducks, and Rock-And-Roll". He couldn't get over what great condition the shirt was in. All it needed was to be washed, and someone had the audacity to just throw it away! It fit my older sister Melissa, who must have been around 16 at the time, and he judged it an appropriate gift for his adolescent daughter. Melissa actually liked the shirt and wore it often.

To be clear, my dad wasn't just cheap when it came to other people. He hated spending money, and was always as thrifty possible. Rarely, if ever, do I recall him buying new clothes for himself or eating at restaurants that weren't fast food or cheap truck stop buffets. He was even kicked out of a buffet for only paying once, yet sticking around all day reading the paper and making multiple trips to get more food. He was just trying to "get his money's worth", he says.

My father always took great pride in his thrifty ways. He explained to me once that instead of buying a $.79 ready-made gas station hot dog, he would buy a package of ten hot dogs for $1.29, then "cook" the cold hot dogs using heat from his truck engine. He also liked purchasing one jumbo-size soda at the movie theater, (one that comes in a plastic cup that is free to refill), then saving it so he can sneak it in on multiple trips to the theater for endless free refills. He told me once that he's probably saved himself hundreds of dollars by being a small-time criminal in this way. He recalled to me in vivid detail the sad day when his plastic cup was smashed and shattered under the pressure of his car's seat. He was forced to fork out $5.50 again for another overpriced movie soda, and was going to take better care of this new cup so he can sneak free sodas with it for as long as possible.

My dad is thrifty to a fault, but he has gotten a lot better over the years. These days he enjoys an expensive restaurant meal on occasion, and prefers to give out cash or gift cards when he's not sure what someone would like for Christmas. There are some good lessons I've learned from my father. It's because of him that I purchase most of my clothes at consignment shops, buy the store brand when I go grocery shopping, and tuck a portion of each paycheck aside for savings. Alternatively, I've tried to show him that life is too short to cook a hot dog on a truck engine just to save a buck.

Tomorrow may be mother's day, but today I'm thinking about my father. Despite all of his eccentricities and shortcomings, I never once doubted that he loved me. I will always love and appreciate my thrifty, nifty dad.