At 78-years-young, My sister’s father-in-law Monte – and someone I have come to love as my adopted grandfather – is an extremely eccentric man. Having traveled the world either on his motorcycle or in his camper – he is someone who is rich in wisdom, a wealth of knowledge, full of very unique stories – and ripe with interesting information. For example, he knows that “orange” is the only word in the English language that doesn’t rhyme with anything, and he also knows that if you were to make a sentence using only the names of three states, the sentence would be, “Did Tennessee what Arkansas? Alaska.”

Having known him since 1988, I have grown very fond of him and have seen him dozens of times here in Brooklyn at family functions – but unfortunately less than a dozen at his 30-acre property in upstate Lexington, New York where he has lived for the last forty years. Last Wednesday, my sister, her husband and my niece and nephew were going to visit him – and considering the fact that I have not been up there since August 22, 2000 – I decided to tag along and see the property for the first time in six-and-a-half years – and see him for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.

As soon as we arrived and settled in, he opened a bottle of champagne while I opened an Icehouse. Before taking a sip, he tilted his glass toward me for a toast and said, “May you live for another hundred years, and may I live another hundred – less one day. For while I want to see a good friend live – I do not want to see one pass away.” Knowing Monte as I do, I at first thought that his toast was another one of his eccentric limericks – like, “There once was a girl from Dumas, who went into the water up to her knees. The joke will get funny when the tide comes in.” But after absorbing what he had said – it touched my heart and made me realize not only what a great man he is – but how much affection he truly has for me.

I only recall one other time he let slip his care for me. In 1991, my friend Steve and I were cutting down a cherry tree to use as firewood for a barbecue. Monte showed us how to properly cut down the tree and then let us – pardon the pun – have a whack at it. Steve went first. After a few chops, Monte asked Steve for the axe back and politely explained to him what he was doing wrong. Handing the axe to me, I began to chop the tree down. Very angrily, he ripped the axe out of my hand and screamed at me that I was screwing it up – and that I should pay more attention to his instructions next time. Shocked by his tone, I stood there speechless. After a few seconds, he turned to Steve and said, “I’m sorry I yelled at your friend like that, but you see – I want to make sure he does it right – because I love him like he is my own son.”

Going to Monte’s is always an experience, mainly due to the truly unique meals that he serves. I distinctly recall one particular breakfast that consisted of the fish I caught the night before, a half-a-dozen hot dogs, gruel – and porridge – as in, “Someone’s been eating my…” While this may not seem like something one would order at IHOP – one of Monte’s rules is that you eat what is placed before you – and so I did.

To show you just how eccentric he is, I will tell you a tale of the time I went to use the outhouse and accidentally unhinged a beehive from inside the structure – much to the chagrin of the angry bees. After frantically escaping with thankfully only two bee stings, I enjoyed the rest of my trip and headed home. On my birthday the following year, I received a package from Monte containing my birthday present – which was the aforementioned unhinged beehive. Imagine my face when I opened the gift.

Only Monte.

While I love to hike, play “survivorman,” build campfires and fish when I am up there, the best part of the trip is seeing Monte and absorbing some of the knowledge he possesses. I have met thousands upon thousands of people in my very unique and wild life – but I can say with confidence that I have never in my life met someone like Monte. He is a true lover of life – and someone that could inspire you to live life to the fullest for the next one hundred years – less one day.

I love you Monte. One day.