An ode to Tim McCaskill

Link to my dad’s obituary, which I wrote with the research assistance of friends and family.

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My dad passed away earlier this month. He was often difficult, controversial, and unpredictable, but always authentic, interesting, and honest. He was hilarious, brilliantly creative, independent, and seemed to know everybody in Austin from the 70s.

He always did exactly and only what he wanted to do, but included us kids in almost all of it. I grew up at motocross tracks, sitting on top of dumpsters with dirty, dusty feet because he wanted to ride and brought me & Sam along in his van. We grew up in freezing Lake Austin water, riding a piece of styrofoam in the waves for years, because he had a vision of a lakeside paradise and we found our fun in it. We grew up on Jimmie Vaughan, Steve Earle, and Robert Earl Keen because that's what my dad blared from the speakers on his yellow Coronado boat while we hung out of the sun roofs (he'd sit on the roof and steer with his foot) as we cruised down the lake to eat popsicles and run wild at the Pier.

My dad is the coolest guy I'll know. He always made the effort to bond with guys I dated that mom didn't approve of. He was deeply interested in nature and in the last few years we bonded over our independences and shared appreciation for solitude. We could talk politics forever and he seemed to know everything about everything and have the most insane story to share at every occasion. He was a complicated, thrilling individual and Sam, Jess, my mom and I will take years to process his presence in our lives.