My college roomate "Kubota"

I only stayed in the dorm one semester; my dad wanted me to have that experience. I went to college in the same town I grew up in, as a matter of fact, my parents house is about 4 blocks from the college.
So it is the beginning of the semester and I am just sitting around in the dorm room wasting time, when somebody knocks on the door. "Hi! I am Kubota", said a small Japanese man standing there with an armload of whatever. His actual name is "Yoshinori Kubota, but he said everyone just calls him Kubota because they can't say Yoshinori right. I called him Yoshi. This guy was so cool. When sleeping, he would lay on his back with his arms at his side, and never move during the night. He put his alarm clock right on the bed and never knocked it over. In stark contrast, I would wake up across the bed with the sheets all over the floor. it looked like wild banshees had slept in my bed after drinking coffee.
Kubota was a really jolly sort of fellow and always wanted to go out with me to the bars. He said he learned a lot of culture this way. Well, thanks to my drinking habit, he got a LOT of culture. I would teach him all the good cusswords and bar slang, and he said after a while that I was his "real" english teacher. Kubota was getting a degree in english education so he could go back to Japan and teach.
He never got the cussing quite right. He would say things like "I hate Millican, he is a shit fuck ass!!".
Yoshi taught me the real way to eat ramen noodles. We would get the square packs, not the ones in the bowl. He put the square of noodles in the bowl of hot water and eat it like a steak, not breaking it up.
One night after getting all cooked downtown, we got back to the room starving to death. Onward to the corner store for a frozen pizza. We walked to my parents house at 2:30 in the morning, fired up the oven, and commenced cooking. I guess we were not quiet enough because in walks my dad, with a puzzled look on his face. I guess he was not expecting to see a small Japanese man bent down sliding a pizza into his oven in the middle of the night. Anyway, my dad was cool and let us eat it right there at the table.

"Why can't we be like the Waltons?"

My dad used to pull the Walton-guilt out all the time. We were totally dysfunctional, just like most families back in the 60s/70s. Me and my brothers fought constantly, my mom drank Gallo wine by the gallon to stay sane, and my dad watched sitcoms to escape reality.
The reason we could not be like the Waltons is because it is a stupid TV show.
That show was dripping with wholesomeness and although there were certainly families like that, i would say they constitute about .000001% of the population.
What about that wonderful Brady Bunch? Gosh darn, were they not as cute as shit?
My dad's favorite shows was All in the Family, and he looked a lot like Archie Bunker.