Poppa Effer: the Gene Hackman Factor

Take a look at both of these pictures.

Gene Hackman, right?

Wait a minute....LOOK CLOSER. There's a very slight difference. Do you see it?

Still don't? OK, let me illuminate: one of these men is NOT Gene Hackman. Believe it or not the handsome devil on the right is actually my father, Mr. Poppa Effer.

I know, I know. It's almost impossible to discern. See my dad is a dead ringer for Hackman. Spitting image. And wanna know what's creepier? He's almost identical in personality.

Here's an example. About a year ago I was in the men's room of a fancy Beverly Hills restaurant and Gene Hackman stormed in. He went looking into every available stall before turning on the Bathroom Attendant:

Gene Hackman: "Bidet?"
Bathroom Attendant: "S'cuse me, sir?"
GH: "I said, 'Where is your bidet?'"
BA: "What is that?"
GH: "A bidet? Ah for cryin' out-- It's a kind of basin for washing your...you know...after you crap."
BA: "Oh my God sir."
GH: "I was told this restaurant had bidets in the men's room."
BA: "No sir, we sure don't."
GH: "Well I was told you did."
BA: "I've worked here seven years. I would know if we had one of those."
GH: "Forget it, I'll just hold it then..."

And he stormed out of the bathroom as quickly as he entered. Moments later, when I went to wash my hands, the Attendant made a face as if to say, "What's up with Hackman?" But I was too awestruck to care. For me it was as if my own dad had been there.

See, ever since my dad went to Japan he talks about bidets as if he's found Christ. "They wash you clean, my son. They leave you fresh and pure. Like the freshly fallen snow." He even gets the same little glint in his eye that I saw on Hackman that day in the loo.

Another thing they have in common is that they're both tough guys. Hackman has been known to be a bit punchy. Even as recently as four years ago he found himself in a well publicized street brawl against two men in their late twenties. Hackman was 71.

My dad's also had his fair share of scraps. As an immigrant to this country, trying to support a wife and four kids in the un-PC 1970s, speaking English with a thick accent, he came to be quite sensitive to comments like "Why dontcha learn some fuckin English?" or "Go home to wherever the shit you came from." He couldn't come back with witty retorts and didn't know how to respond to these hurtful words. But what he did know was that iconic American men like McQueen, Bronson and Eastwood didn't need witty retorts.

So I remember being at the market with my dad when some yokel cut in front of us at the checkout stand and on top of it, had the gall to make a slur. Next thing you know Poppa Effer popped him one in the nose. The guy fell to the ground, screamed for the manager and filed a police report. To this day Popps is convinced that punching the schmuck was the right course of action. Very Popeye Doyle if you ask me.

OTHER FUN FACTS:

-Hackman used to smoke, but quit cold turkey.

-So did my dad.

-Hackman loves Volvos.

-Poppa Effer is a Volvo-slutaholic.

-Hackman left home at 16.

-Guess what? So did my main man.

-And they both have male pattern baldness to boot!

See? It really is as though I was raised by Gene Hackman himself! So if you ever happen to be walking down the street and you think you see Gene Hackman, it might just be my dad instead.

But if you choose to speak to him, err on the side of caution and refrain from saying, "What's up Poppa Effer!" It might just save you a black eye.