Father Knows Best... Horror From the Juiceman Days

My dad just took off for Chicago, but before he did he woke me up at 5:30am to give me one of his funky home-made juices. It's been weird living with my parents while I'm working in Korea since it's been over twelve years, since high school, that I've stayed with them. They are in Korea half the year, so it makes it somewhat bearable.

Anyway, today reminded me of my high school days when my dad was just getting into the Juiceman fad that some Asian parents were getting into. But my dad has always been unique in his approach to food and always forcing my young brother and I to eat whatever he would, which is anything. Most people would use apples, oranges, grapefruit, bananas, and other fruits to make juice drinks enjoyable for their family members and guests. My father thought differently.

Beets, radish, green onions, and celery along with some fruits and random vegetables that would make anyone cringe and plug their nose as they attempted to drink the concoction. For several months during those years, my dad would wake us up as the sun barely peek through the sky and handed us our daily dose. Initially we would pretend to not wake up but then you would get the loud voice or stern shake, so we stop that masquerade. My father was just slightly shorter than my brother and I, but had a bigger frame. He has 6'0" with fairly good-sized arms and chest, so we never wanted to incur his wrath. We would drink it with a look on our faces like those babies in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons or The Little Rascals who had to drink the castor oil. Castor oil is better.

The worst was during that period some friends would stay over after hanging out late, and they would wake up to the sight of my father standing over them with a glass of the murky, green-light brown concoction and my father's voice booming, "Drink it!"

One time my friend, Brian, woke it to this experience, drank it, and then was kind enough to walk to the kitchen and hand the glass to my dad.

"What's this, Brian?"

"Ummm... it's the glass, Mr. Moon."

"No. I mean this on the bottom. You didn't finish the drink."

"Mr. Moon, that's the pulp.

"No. That's the fiber and it's good for you. Drink it!"

"Uhh... Ok, Mr. Moon."

Brian avoided my dad after that experience.