Punch Worthington: The Peaceful Warrior. By David Worthington

My father was...a Marine

My father was...a knuckle dragging offensive lineman

My father was...an outlaw

My father was...a college Gasser

My father was...a college Professor

My father was...Ever-Sturdy (like a Giant Oak)

My father was...a pacifist

My Father was...

Just a couple weeks ago I was sitting in Angel Stadium watching a Ball Game, with a buddy, Mike. We talked about The Greatness of My Father Punch. Between a dog and one too many beers I said to Mike...Ya know...My Father basically Had No Enemies. My friend Mike, who knew and loved Punch and his politics and struggles....gave me this raised eyebrow look. Really? After a pregnant pause I got it...Okay touche, My Father had zero enemies with the slight exception of the FBI, CIA, GOP, OSU Regents, and a whole lotta Religious Right Crusaders and various other Virtue Police Operatives...JESUS. Let's not get nit-picky over here. Besides, those are just acronyms and humorless organizations. He had very few Human enemies and he laughed and lived with ALL different Walks of Life. This Room today is testament.

Make no mistake. Punch was a great Patriot. Our Founding Fathers set up this government so that we'd not have an Imperialist President. My Father stood-up for them and for Freedom and For Justice. Never Sold out. Never Silenced. He put Boots on the ground. For all men and all women, esp. the working class. Goofing around, I once asked him about meeting at the "Pearly Gates". He said, hell No We Wont Go! I'll be at the GOLDEN gates. As in Golden Gate Park. GAWT-DAMMIT. You'll find me West of Haight Ashbury. With between 3 and 13 million others, marching together against the Next Senseless War. I'll be in the middle of the scrum wiping tear gas from the eyes of my fellow brothers and sisters.

I'll be there where some poor bastard is getting his belly kicked-in by corruption and greed. I'll be there...
Ref: recall the great scene from Grapes of Wrath starring Henry Fonda.

My Father was...hmmm...
I really pity the Cat who tries to pigeon-hole my Dad. My Father was so many things.
My Father was

a Follower - a Leader
a Hippy (peace sign) - a U.S Marine (salute)
Tattooed on his bicep was "Semper Fi" - tattooed on his Soul: "Solidarity" (fist)
a Patriot - a Revolutionary
a Citizen - an Outlaw
North of the Border - South of the Border
Animal Hunter - Animal Lover
Knuckle Dragging Offensive Lineman - Leaned out Cross Country Runner and Skier
Life Long Beaver Fan - OU Duck Fan (on those days not playing the Beavs)

My Father was a Dancer - My Father was a BOXER
Sugar Ray Leonard - Rrroberto Duran
Sonny Liston - Moooohamad Ali

My Father was a College Gasser - My Father was a College Professor
Student - Teacher, Father - Son
Rich Man - Poor Man
Militant (fist) - Passivist (peace)
Counter-Culture - Agriculture
Ever-Sturdy (like a Giant Oak) / EverGREEN (like a Giant Sequoia)

So Playful, So Serious...So juxtaposed.....I pity the Cat in charge of pigeon-holing Dad.

My Father was Soft - My Father was Strong
My Father was Stubborn (Never Give an Inch) - My Father was Open to change (viva la Revolucion)
My father was A Scientist steered by doubt and certainly; a non-believer of Dogma - My father was a Zealot; a True Believer in the Indian way and worship of Nature and the Cycle of Life; He was ETHERIZED by Nature. He Loved and still Loves Marinating in Her Beauty. He flows thru me.

My father was a consumer (he loved his food) - My father was a Harvester (tending his Garden)
We dined on under-priced ceviche in San Felipe and overpriced escargot in Paris.
On chinook off the Salmon River, and seared Ahi on Hanalei Bay, Kauai
pritty sure he ate grilled dog meat in Viet Nam or Morocco...wash er down with a road pop Dad!
Like foodstuffs...he had a wide range of musical tastes (food for the soul) - Country, Rock, Folk, Blues, MoTown, Rap, Reggae, Honky Tonk, Jazz, One World Beat and a lil Zydeco.
He embraced ALL Flavors.

My Father was a taker - a giver; a Super Jock Athlete - an over-achieving Egg Head.
A Poet - a Carpenter.
He Built up Hospitals - He tore down Fences (and the prong horns smiled)
A Painter of Art - A Painter of Bridges.
A Gitter-Done Pragmatist - a Star-Gazing Naturalist

My Father at times made authority...nervous. My Father always made us feel...comfortable. safe..

To some who never knew him, all these polarities sound....conflicted. (Shake Head) NOT the case in the Amazing Life of my Father. With Dad, all these things were integrated...in sync, in harmony. A warrior flows both downstream and upstream.. He sores in the winds of 4 directions. North South East and West. With the ying, and the yang. He trained his mind, and his body. He survived Boot Camp and Higher Learning. He was all about EL PASSION' (fist) AND El CORAZON (heart).
He lived his Life In Balance. He flows thru me.

Though he sometimes misplaced the car keys (Gawt-Dammit!) Metaphorically, He held the key to Love and Fear. He taught me to go deep into the Onion Layers to find Truth. I peeled the onion to the core and puzzled, I held my hand out and said, Dad, there is Nothing.
No son, he laughed, there in your palm, lies the Universe.

My Father stressed the values and therapy of fun and folly and laughter.
I miss him.
But here today HE FLOWS THRU ALL of US!

Shoot I guess, If you really were pressed to categorize....I'd say my Dad was a Merry Prankster and a Peaceful Warrior. Or...maybe an ecologist/humanist/Mad Scientist. Cosmic Cowboy...Errr...
F it...He was a God-Fearing BEAVER BELIEVER! And That's my final Answer!

Thank You for Coming. Lets Drink to the Peaceful Warrior.

Love, Baby David
October 13, 2006

My father was...a painter of bridges	My father was...a boxer
My father was...a hunter	My father was...a fisherman
My father was...a Beaver Believer
My Father was a World Traveler
My Father was a Bow Hunter.....and a crabber, gawddammit!