If you all know my dad, Dean Tamisiea — and I know ALL of you do — I mean, it’s Dean Tamisiea . . . of the Tamisieas? Come on, readers, do your research . . . I’ll wait . . .
Got it? No. Well, Dean Tamisiea is my father. He’s well read. He’s very well educated. He’s a retired radiologist. He’s fit. He’s lean. He’s in better shape than you . . . I can almost guarantee that . . . oh, and this past Thursday he turned 70. Yes! Seven-Zero. Seventy.
Also, Dean hates attention. He would rather read a book than attend a party. And when it comes to celebrating anything to do with his own achievements — he gets all modest and shy . . . like a 10 year old girl being told she’s pretty. So what better way to disregard Dean’s shy nature than by throwing him a GOD DAMN SURPRISE PARTY!!!! As gracious and somewhat disheveled and weird sons, my brothers and I thought it would be a great idea.
So, Pat, Sean, Chris and I pooled our resources (which amounts to a comic book collection, some running shorts and a few dollars) and invited all his friends and relatives to a big ol’ party. Of course, in Dean fashion, two weeks into planning, he decides he’s going out of town that weekend. I heard this from my own father-in-law — Dean was supposed to go on a road trip to Virginia and he was going to stop in Paducah, KY for a spell. Pat and I were all set to surprise the red haired wonder with our presence in Omaha. Instead, Pat had to reveal his intention of coming in. SO, I was teh lone surprise son.
Well, let me tell you, some beer, soda, brats, burgers, cake and about 50 friends and family and we had a nice little shindig. Here’s some photos . . . chances are non of you know these poople, so just create your own damn narrative . . .or do I have to do everything?