FATHER’S DAY FROM OLD DAD TO NEW DAD ALL TOGETHER

Father’s Day comes every year, but that first one is something else.

A new dad on his day lays the groundwork of tradition for every Father’s Day for the next fifty years.

Will it be like a birthday? Christmas? Or eventually just another day on the calendar?

The easy answer: It depends on the kids.

But, that’s too easy. Take my dad, for example.

He had four kids. I don’t remember one Father’s Day for him, or a gift. From over forty opportunities, I’ve got no memory of his day.

I can’t speak for the rest of the group, just me, but we didn’t do a big thing back then. Maybe that’s why I keep the same tradition.

“What do you want for Father’s Day?”

“Better kids.”

“What’s wrong with your kids?”

“Nothing, but I’d like better kids for all of the jerks out there.”

“Is this supposed to be funny? Why not just focus on your Father’s Day?”

“Ask me what I want.”

“I just did.”

“Ask me again.”

“Really? We have to do this again? Another Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid routine? Fine. What do you want for Father’s Day?”

“Are you asking me to stick around for Father’s Day?”

“Yes, I’d like you to stick around and unwrap a present. Is there anything you want?”

“No, nothing special, just the usual piece of wood from the garage.”

“That’s your specialty.”

“And I’ve got a special hunk for Mother’s Day. Now that’s a real day. Father’s Day, not so much.”

My Dad’s Days

I remember carrying the bucket on the beach while he dug clams across the bay in Empire, Oregon. Wherever he learned how to do that, it stuck. He never broke a clam shell, which is why I carried the bucket.

My shoveling skills were weaker than my grip on the bucket handle.

He and I hit the road during deer season, which meant taking my mom’s Ford Pinto up on Dean’s Mountain looking for deer close to the gravel road.

His deer rifle was a 30-40 Krag with the magazine of death. My contribution to the hunt was sleeping in the passenger seat. One time he spotted a deer, rolled the window down near me, and took his shot leaning over my sleeping body.

How loud was that inside a small car?

It got better with boat hunting on Eel Lake. The plan was to launch the boat, spend the night on the water, and see what showed up for a morning drink.

Except we forgot to put the plug in the back and the boat nearly sunk at the start.

The boat had a full cover with an open front. That night we laid the seats out and snapped the cover over us. Then it rained, rained some more, then rained harder. All the water drained from the front to the back and filled up the boat at night.

We woke up and started bailing. The next morning we saw a big buck.

Sports Fan Dad

When my older brother went away to college to play football, my dad and I would drive around North Bend, Oregon until we found a spot to hear the game on the radio.

It felt pretty great having a dad like that.

When I learned how to wrestle he was fascinated.

“If they’d had wrestling when I was in school, I would’ve done that,” he said.

He made me proud.

I brought some of my old man forward to my kids. Their school had wrestling and they wrestled. Like my dad, they were basketball players. They played on teams before high school wrestling and after.

Their enthusiasm was my leverage. We used to talk about sports and the stars.

“Who’s your favorite basketball player?”

“Michael Jordan.”

Michael Jordan was also the answer when I asked them who they’d want as a dad instead of me. It’s still a good joke, even better now that they’re older.

“Do you want to know what all the guys in the NBA and NFL did before they went pro?”

“They played basketball and football.”

“Yes, they did. In college. Most of them went to college before the big leagues. How does college sound. Fun?”

I coached their youth sports teams, then watched them go. And they got after it. What is it about watching your kids suit up and compete?

During the time it took to play a game, nothing else mattered.

I’m A New Dad Fan On Father’s Day

As a new Grandad, I get to see the latest version of baby-life.

From my point of view, new baby’s mom and dad are making a better future every day.

They are dedicated parents with a common goal of helping their kid see the way ahead.

I visit to keep from staring at other people’s kids when I’m out and about. I stare at baby and they stare right back. It’s a nice, quiet, conversation.

Then we take a nap.

2

The new mom and dad have social media rules: keep a low profile.

As a blogger with a demanding audience of a few, I just know I’d get more traffic by including them in my posts. Who doesn’t want to see the new kid on the block? I do. But I follow their rules, which are not that strict.

Common sense says keeping a low profile doesn’t invite bad actors to participate. And social media is all about the participation.

I use twitter and facebook in my work, which doesn’t include unwanted intrusions. Like any online marketer, I invite all intrusions.

My personal intrusion-meter went off when a writer on twitter with 27,000 followers whined about lack of audience for their new book. That’s got to hurt, right?

A facebook guy with a hundreds of thousands of friends held an event. One guy showed up. Ouch.

3

Do smart parents raise smart kids? Let’s hope for smart kids no matter where they come from.

We want them to know when to work hard, when to work smart, and when to take time off.

We want them to see the beauty around them and preserve it for future generations.

Most of all, don’t we want the young ones to understand their part in bending the path of human evolution toward better outcomes?

I’ll go with that. Regardless of where you are in life, whatever your social and economic status, seeking better outcomes for others is a worthy goal.

So, do your part.