Tussin, Dex and Listerine: Fathers' fixations with fix-all products

Last Monday, as I was falling ill, I was watching some Oscar wrap-ups and happened upon some Chris Rock interviews.

Since I was sick, all I could think about was his bit in one of his shows -- I think it was Bring the Pain -- about his father and Robitussin. Apparently his pops used Robitussin for every ailment. Common cold -- Robitussin. Headache -- Robitussin. Broken back -- Robitussin. He used it so much he did what all black men do in similar situation -- he shortened its name to just Tussin. If someone was dealing with allergies: "Better get that Tussin."

It was a classic bit to me because it reminded me of my pops and Listerine. A few years later the father from My Big Fat Greek wedding had his fix-all product. It was Windex. He used it on everything, including bruises and scrapes. He used it as an air freshner. Even brought it to the breakfast table.

But by far his most compelling and profound use came after he had an argument with his daughter. While leaving the room, instead of using a gesture, like a dismissive wave off or slamming the door -- he turned his back, walked out and squirted some Dex in the air. It was the most gangsta use of a cleaning product ever.

My father was crazy with his Listerine.

Looking back I wish he would've used it back when I was a kid and he used to wake me up at 6 a.m. to cut my hair before going to our meetings. I always thought it was foul and cruel how he used to just punk and disrespect me by not brushing his teeth, but still trying to kick it with me in the morning darkness about racist white basketball referees and how they called games for Larry Bird and the Celtics. Plus he was hookin me with busted five-level fades and lumpy box cuts and tellin me they were professional.

All that dude?!

The least he could've done was run a brush across his amber choppers or gargle some of his beloved Listerine.

But see that was just it with pops. He only got maniacal with Listerine when it came to sickness-prevention. Pops hasnt taken a sick day in almsot 40 years. That's crazy right? He rarely gets really sick....like bed-ridden sick. And it's all because of 'Rine.

See, the way he sees it...colds start because of germs and most germs enter into your system through your mouth. That's why most colds start with a tingle in the back of your throat. Well, as soon as pops gets that tingle, he starts with gargling. And dude is committed with it too. He'll gargle for minutes at a time 2 or 3 times an hour. He'll gargle in the middle of meals. He'll wake up in the middle of the night to gargle. Dude even takes the bottle of 'Rine with him in the car when he leaves the crib. I can count too many times where I'd be with pops and he'd be gargling at red lights, opening up the door spittin out 'Rine before the light change. He'd stop a conversation abruptly and say: "Hold up Vince, let me hit this 'Rine before green."

But perhaps the most annoying aspect of his 'Rine fixation was his insistence on pestering everyone else to follow his health manual. And it's like, "Dude, I'm not gonna be gargling on my way up to the post office door and spitting in garbage cans before going in." None of us, not me or any of my sibs, were willing to be either as dedicated or fanatic as he was.

When we were younger we'd just have to deal with it. He'd force us. He use to give these annoying gargling tutorials. The key, ya see, was to get the 'Rine as far back in your throat as possible without swallowing. "Yeah, get on back in there deep where them germs is laying."

He got even more annoying as you got older though. Once you were in your late teens and he could no longer force you to do certain things, he'd find roundabout ways to get in 'Rine plugs when people were sick. When we moved in the late 90s, we moved to a nice crib that had a bathroom off the kitchen. That's where he kept his stash of 'Rine. Don't let me be in the the kitchen watching TV when I was sick. He'd inevitably slide in a 'Rine promo. It'd go something like this:

"Vince. What's happnin baby?"

"Wuddup pops?"

Weasling his way into position...

"Yeah man. I heard you down here hacking. Sounds like you got a serious phlegm situation goin on. What? You sick man?"

"Yeah man. I'm comin down with somethin. I'm handlin it though."

"Yeah I thought you might be getting somethin. I could hear that phlegm tryin to get out. You been garglin"

"Naw"

" Yeah. Well, mom told me you were comin down with somethin too, so I just went ahead and kopped you a bottle of Listerine. I put it on your bed."

"Good looks pops"

I'd give him each answer without turning my head from the TV so he wouldn't try to strike too engaging of a conversation. Still, he'd continue.

"Remember to get it in deep when you gargle. Get it all the way back in the slums."

Now I'd just start giving him the silent treatment.

But he'd keep going. See his Listerine rampage, as with most fathers and their fix-all promos, was as much about endorsing his unique prescription for beating a cold as it was about concern for your health. So even if he already had covered the essentials -- yes I'm sick; no I haven't gargled; yes I know that you bought me my personal bottle -- he still has to figure out a way to give me a gargling exhibition to blow the climaxing note on his self-celebrating trumpet.

And he knew I knew, so he'd try to ease it in. i guess it was his paternal instinct and duty. Anyway, despite my silence he'd continue. Usually he'd just start milling around the kitchen, maybe stop and aimlessly stare at whatever show I was watchin. If it was sports he was set, because his grasp of sports was so thorough that he could easily find away to to get in a plug, plus he could avoid me giving him the silence by engaging me in a sports convo. But he was at his most annoying if it was a show like Real World and he really had no plausible entree into a 'Rine plug. But like I said, he was determined...

"What's this Vince?"

"Real World"

"Man them kids crazy ain't they?"

Silence...

"Man is that dude gay? Look at him. Little sissy."

silence....

"Man that girl crazy ain't she Vince. that broad nutty as a fruitcake."

A little more staring at the TV

"Look at that broad...man she look sick too don't she?"

Silence...

"People always sick...I hate sick people...People in this crib always walking around sick...Gettin snot and saliva on everything."

Silence....

"You good though. You don't stay too sick. You're like me. But not the rest of these ol' sickly niggas. Priscilla? Man, that girl! She stay walkin around the house with her lil' sniffly nose. I can't stand these sick people around here. Yo mama stay sick too. I'm through with this no immune system situation 'round here. Ya know what I'm sayin Vince? Sick niggas...But you cool though"

Here it comes...

"Man shoot, let me go on and gargle some Listerine before I come down with some virus."

That's when he'd go in the adjacent bathroom and start gargling with the door open. Talking himself through his several gargles, but also indirectly giving me some gargling pointers for the 300th time in my life...

"Wooooooo. Let me do 'bout three or fo mo hits."

he gargles...

"Ahhhhhh. I'm gonna get it down in there on this next one."

he gargles....

"Uhhhh. Them germs is co-dead. Ya know?! Got to get at them lames before they even get started!" He'd try to fake like he was sayin all this stuff to himself.

This went on too many times to count while I lived at home. Funny thing is, I gargle a lot now. Especially when I feel colds coming on. If I would've gargled a little more and little earlier, I may not have caught the flu bug, which eventually turned into the chest cold that had me dealing with asthma attacks all last week.

Regardless of how they go about it, I guess it's somewhat accurate when they say "Father knows best."

For what it worth, you probably won't ever catch me living anywhere without some Tussin, Dex and 'Rine.