It's time yet again to talk about that very particular Diet-Pepsi-drinking Yankee.
Or, as I call him, Dad.
In the years since he's retired, he has loosened up a bit (he started wearing patterns!) and been broadening his cultural (Hawaiian patterns!) and technological horizons. He's also been traveling quite a bit. Not actually to Hawaii yet, but just about everywhere else. When he's not visiting his only daughter in Arkansas -- where he slathers ketchup on barbecue -- or taking weekend trips to see another Elvis impersonator in Lancaster, Pa. ("Now this guy was really good!"), he and those shirts are usually on a cruise to somewhere.
I mentioned he's also upped his tech savvy. He did away with the landline and got an iPhone, he already had an iPad and now even has an Apple Watch. He'd still rather email or call than text, and he'll do bizarre things -- like put the phone in airplane mode just to turn off the sound instead of just, you know, turning off the sound. But his Bitmoji game is strong.
As I write this he's on his wildest excursion yet -- he's on a safari trip to South Africa. And before he left, he sent me a text message.
"Do you have WhatsApp?" he asked.
I do indeed have WhatsApp -- the app, using your phone's Internet connection, allows you to talk and send messages, images, audio and video for free (fine print from whatsapp.com: "As long as you have not exceeded your data limit or you are connected to a free Wi-Fi network, your carrier should not charge you extra for messaging over WhatsApp"). Not that I've ever made much use of it, as I have an unlimited messaging plan, as do most of the people I regularly interface with.
But now that Dad was on it, we could use WhatsApp for free international communication while he's away.
I clicked on the app, clicked "Chats" and then clicked on the paper/pencil icon with the intention of sending him a quick message to test it out.
I scrolled through my contacts. Pretty close to the top, I saw "Dad Christman." There he was.
No, there she was.
Next to "Dad Christman" on WhatsApp was a picture, but it was not of my father -- a fair-skinned man with faded red hair who was often confused for former Congressman Dick Gephardt when he too worked in Washington, D.C.
It was a picture of an attractive young woman with a big smile and the status of all app newbies, "Hey there! I am using WhatsApp." She too had an Apple Watch, but that's where the similarities ended. She had big earrings, a nose ring, a short Afro haircut and dark skin.
"Dad Christman" was now a black woman.
WhatsApp with that, I wanted to know!
"Hi Dad!" I wrote on WhatsApp to him. To her. To whomever.
No immediate response.
So I texted Dad a screenshot of his new look: "I see that you're on WhatsApp ... but your icon is a black woman?!"
He texted back quite flustered, "I just signed up, I don't know how that could've happened, but Nancy is having a conniption over your comments." Nancy is Dad's far-more-tech-advanced girlfriend. We love laughing at him together, which we get to do often as he's still getting his footing in the social networking world. Thinking of Nancy laughing got me laughing until my stomach hurt.
Only my father -- "Dad Christman" -- could manage to goof up his WhatsApp sign-up and picture so spectacularly.
Wait a second, "Dad Christman?" Hey, that's not the name I use when I contact Dad! I always use the "Parents" entry in my contacts -- after all, he kept his landline phone number as his iPhone number.
Ooops, so that means "Dad Christman" is an old entry that I never bothered to delete. The mistake wasn't his for once, it was mine. "Dad Christman's" old cell number is now this woman's new number. And here I am calling her my father.
I had to apologize. After I stopped laughing.
I collected myself and wrote to the female "Dad Christman" -- whomever she was: "Oh, good Lord. You have my old (white) father's old cell number! I was wondering how he changed into a lovely woman. So sorry!"
That's when the female "Dad Christman"started laughing. She sent back three cry-laughing emojis and an "It's OK."
Dad hadn't even left yet and already, what a trip!
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Spin Cycle is a weekly smirk at pop culture.
Style on 09/23/2018