Radio announcer Will Johnston flew to Wellington to surprise his dad for Anzac Day dawn parade. Photo/ Will Johnston
"If you had a brain it would be lonely!"
That's what I remember my dad saying to me when I was an idiotic teenager.
He still has a point.
To this very day I'm still doing idiotic things that I don't use my brain to think about before I carry them out.
Like driving three hours back to the Mount from a wedding I was celebrant/MC at in Auckland over the weekend.
I left at 11.15pm and got home at 2am. I drove 80 per cent of it in fog. While tired as hell.
It was a dumb move. Though a great excuse to stop for a 1am McChicken Combo at Matamata Maccas.
Funnily enough, I don't think it's wrong to say things like that that might sound slightly mean to your kids. In all seriousness, that statement (that rings in my head whenever I wake up with a blinder of a hangover on a weekday) has served me well.
Like when I'm thinking about doing something that is 'unadvisable by medical professionals' or something that's just a dumb idea, that statement from the old man usually comes to my mind as a "are you sure you want to be doing this" alert.
Frequently I override it and do the thing anyway, because I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions and you're not the boss of me, Dad (channelling my inner 14-year-old).
Mum and Dad live in Wellington, as does my sister, her fiancée and their two kids. Their oldest son, Nico (who turned 2 this week), absolutely LOVES his granddad.
He asks for him all the time, is now talking to granddad on the phone, brings him all of the toys and books in the house just to impress him when he comes round.
He does a bloody good impersonation of granddad being puffed from walking up the steep path to my sister's whare (granddad is not the physical beast of an army major that he used to be, but that's what being 71 does to you I guess).
Dad was in the army for 20 years. Dad's father was in WWII and lost a leg leading his men through a landmine-laden hedge. Dad's mother was a nurse on the first medical ship that left NZ to head to WWII, and Dad's brother was in the army for more than 20 years too.
Army army army! Back in the day dad served a couple of years in the Middle East with the UN no less! Peacekeeping in the 70s in Cairo/Gaza area you say? Yeah, I'll go right ahead and pass on that, thanks.
But he didn't. It was an adventure, he loved it and I literally think he lives to serve (once he left the army, Mum became his new major general). I definitely have a huge amount of respect for him across the board. He's seen and done a lot.
You'd imagine Anzac Day means a lot to a guy like that. He doesn't ever say it, but I can tell that the Anzac dawn service is something that he feels he wants to do.
For himself and to remember others. I've been to a few with him over the years and I generally never miss them wherever I am on that day.
Except for, of course, when my 'lonely brain' decides to celebrate others' sacrifices by drinking with friends the night before a day off.
So, I'm going to go to Wellington this Tuesday night to surprise them.
I plan to turn up on Mum and Dad's doorstep and go to the dawn parade in Wellington with him on Anzac morning.
I can already see the shocked look on their faces when they open the door, I'm looking forward to the big solid and army-like handshake and hug you can imagine he always gives his son upon arrival.
But mainly I'm looking forward to standing next to my old man on a day that is a representation of so much that has shaped his life (let alone the psyche of this country).
Why would I not be there for that.
Still, when the alarm goes off at 4am, I will be thinking "if I had a brain it would be lonely"!
At least there's rum in the coffee at the RSA.
Jefferies and family will enjoy a leg of lamb with summer sides.