My dad, like, he was like this super dad. He was forty or forty-one when he had me, and so I’ve always known him with…he looked like George Clooney, he had salt-and-pepper hair…he taught me how to throw a fucking curve ball….but he also could fix anything, do anything, he was like Ma and Pa Joe, like he moved west from Nebraska….like, they really moved during the Dust Bowl, and he farmed beans and hops and whatever grew, and he went to Oregon and came down to California, and then by the time he was a teenager he had a car. And he went to the Korean War and then came back, he was like this really groovy Californian guy…he could build and do anything. He’s like a fuck off artist - he could draw or paint, sculpt, anything with his hands he could do…..if a horse nearby is whinnying, he would go, ‘Oh, that horse is giving birth, I’ll be right back!’, like, he’s the guy who could do it. He’s the guy that if the captain and the navigator and the copilot all had bad fish, and the plane is going down, the fuselage of the plane would instinctively look at my dad and go, ‘That’s our man!’
And he’s eighty years old, and he came and saw a show I did in Vegas with Drew Carey and the Whose Line gang. And he’s you know, white hair, like, kind of a turtleneck and a jacket, he’s kind of suave looking. And we’re just having a conversation, and women that were younger then me, my age, older then me, his age, kept crossing the casino to come up to him and say, ‘Excuse me, I’m sorry, um…we have to tell you you’re the most debonair man we’ve ever seen in our life.’ And he doesn’t have a big mouth. I talk to much, my dad doesn’t. He just sits there and looks like he could land the plane. And he is the fucking best."
— Jeff B. Davis, talking about his dad (via because-i-win-and-you-lose)
— Jeff B. Davis (via because-i-win-and-you-lose)