My Funny, Angry Dad

MY DAD, WALLY ODENKIRK, COULD GET MAD AT A rag that he was using to dry the car. If he dragged it across the hood and it slopped against his pants and left a wet mark, he could burst into a rage.

“Goddammit! What the HELL?!” He would curse the sky, the rag, and its unruly wetness. The universe would stare back, not giving an inch. It was funny if you weren’t too close to the unjustified intensity of his emotional outburst. I inherited this “thermonuclear emotional latitude.” I can go from 0 (calm, grinning, friendly) to 80 (sputtering, red-faced, dynamite) in zero-point-zero seconds. This can be useful in acting. In real life, it can be unnerving. It’s amazing to me how often it’s unintentional and doesn’t reflect my actual state of mind but is some kind of fun-house-mirror exaggeration of my actual feeling. And I suppose it’s about as fun as a fun-house