My father-in-law Dave Thomas passed away yesterday, May 14, 2020 (b. September 20, 1938).

I met Dave back in 1993 at Shellie’s 30th birthday party. I wasn’t dating her yet, but I was at the party. It was extremely crowded, like nothing is today, so I didn’t really speak to anyone else that night but Shellie, and her parents, Barb and Dave. Dave thought the wine I brought, a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, was impressive, but not as impressive as the fact that we were able to get into a full-on conversation about the things that really mattered in life: Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis… well, you can see where I’m going. We both loved the blues, r&b, and rock and roll. I think it’s fair to say we hit it off. Shellie and I did, too, but that’s another story (we were married three years later, and Meredith was born five years later.)

Over the years, conversations with Dave and I always ended up at music. The reverence for Chess Records blues and Sun Records rock ’n roll never went away, but, along with Pete (his son, my brother-in-law) who is equally obsessive about music, our conversations expanded to include the Clancy Brothers, Hank Williams, The Band, Ray Charles, Johnny Cash, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Aretha Franklin, Hank Ballard, doo wop, and The Tragically Hip. In his later years, it became obvious that Dave even had a fondness for show tunes.

Dave was alway so full of life, that it seems impossible that he’s no longer with us. He was really into whatever he was into: there’s no other way to put it. Whether he was working out, which he did most days for most of his life, playing tennis, or teaching judo or gymnastics, Dave did it with verve, and a competitive sense that I admire, but which I believe is foreign to me.

Dave was extremely pissed off when his knees decided that tennis was no longer in the picture.

Probably because I don’t know one thing about sports (not one), Dave seemed to know everything about sports. He was especially into basketball, baseball, football (American, Canadian, pro and college), tennis, and golf. He claimed to not like hockey, because of the violence, but still knew more about it than anyone in my orbit. In my previous job, my clients included a number of major sports team like The New York Jets. We had the opportunity, then, to take Dave to a few NFL games. Dave and I started with the Chicago Bears, and then Barb, Shellie and Meredith joined us for a Jets game and Buffalo Bills game. Those were definitely among my most memorable moments with Dave, even though I felt like a total alien at the games, and even Dave was taken aback by the sometimes manic, obstreperous and ill-advised fan behaviour. I think we all felt, well, really CANADIAN at those games, with our low key modesty, and our subdued fondness for cool decorum. Still, it was the craziness of those games that made them memorable.

It wasn’t just sports though. Perhaps because he was an editor (at the Hamilton Spectator and the Kitchener-Waterloo Record), perhaps because he read a lot, or perhaps because he just payed attention to things, Dave knew a lot about a lot of things. Spelling, grammar and style, for sure, but Dave could speak with confidence about history, politics, flora, fauna, cars, film, television, planet earth, and the cosmos. And he was always able to draw on his knowledge bank casually and modestly (I could learn from him).

I know it’s a cliché to say that so-and-so was first and foremost committed to his family, but that was absolutely true with Dave. If you knew him I’m sure you’ll agree. Dave was passionate about his interests and activities, but he was alway first and foremost the greatest husband, father and grandfather that anyone could be. Nothing mattered to him more than Barb, Shellie, Pete, and Meredith (and in-laws are in-laws, but he loved Kelly and me unconditionally too, with or without the Châteauneuf-du-Pape). We can all take our cue from Dave on this score.

Dave also unconditionally loved his sister Bobby, of course, and Dick, and Michael, Jill, Alicia, Dave, Kevin, Lisa, Sahra, Denise, Robin, Bryn, Kat, Chirs, Jennifer, Nicole, and Andrew, and their extended families.

Finally, it has to be said that Dave was a pun pundit. Dave had a photographic memory but never developed it. He was a very logical grammarian: he had a lot of comma sense. OK, I’ll stop there! Dave was funny all the time. Non-stop. Punstoppable. He loved his puns, but he also loved old-fashioned dirty jokes that weren’t that dirty. Really, any form of humour appealed to Dave. He always saw the humour in every situation. He embraced humour to deal with the most important issues: religion, politics, censorship, sex, bigotry, fear, and language itself. George Carlin was a god to Dave, except that neither of them believed in god, but you get my point.

What a pleasure to get to spend so much time with someone who enjoyed life so much, and passed that joy on to others so generously.

Dave Thomas, R.I.P.