Nathan: Are you gonna teach your boy how to play hockey?
Chip: Oh yeah. My son’s gonna play hockey and he’ll play the drums. I mean, what’s the use of having a boy if you can’t push all your failed dreams on him?
My Father’s Day card to my pops arrived a couple of days after Father’s Day. It happens. I was even born late and all that. And lately, I’ve been pretty dang introspective about life (relative isolation will do that to a person). And I got to thinking about all the things that are an everyday part of my life because they were an everyday part of his. Genetics is a trip. And for that matter, so is parenting.
"My dad didn’t want to raise no lazy ass, lollygagger of a son. But he did anyway."Baseball
My dad took me to my first Cardinal game when I was 5 years old. Since then, we probably attended roughly a hundred or so games together. If it wasn’t for my dad, I wouldn’t be paying $200 for the baseball cable package, I wouldn’t have the urge to shove my life aside every time a Cardinal game came on, and I’d probably own a lot less red clothing. Thanks Dad.
Pool
Some families play football, others play baseball, and yet others, like the DC area snipers, prefer killing random people from afar. The family that plays together stays together. Even if they stay together in jail. My father had me playing pool from the time I was 8 years old. By the time I was 13, I was taking down high school seniors in front of their girlfriends at parties and earning a reputation. Few fathers make it a point to get a kid interested in a game played predominately in bars. Mine did. Thanks Dad.
Academics
I am not that bright a guy. But my old man is. He forced academics on me like a rabid sumbitch. A grade of B was never good enough. Still isn’t. Without his harsh criticism of my goofy, illogical mind, I never would have gotten a scholarship to college. Of course, that saved him money too, but whatever. Thanks again, Dad.
Stupid Boring Shit
How to maintain a car, how to maintain a house, how to maintain a yard, the value of a dollar, the value of hard work…all of this was forced upon me by my father, who didn’t want to raise no lazy ass, lollygagger of a son. But he did anyway. What can I say? At least he tried. Thanks for that, Dad.
Respect for God and Country
I thank soldiers for serving though I never served myself (I was mentally unbalanced and graduated high school at peacetime). I respect those who are willing to put their lives on the line. I am not willing to do that, but at least I don’t look down my nose at those willing to kill simply because they’re told to. I mean, you have to respect that sort of dedication. So again, thanks Dad.
My dad, whenever we hang up the phone, always says, “I love you and I’m proud of you.” I don’t know exactly what he’s proud of. But still, at least he says he is. And for that I offer one final, “Thanks Dad.”
I hope you had a great Father’s Day in St. Louis Pops (if you‘re reading this), but mainly I just hope the Cards can get healthy and make the postseason. Some years, we get both. Maybe this year will be that year.
And if it’s not, well I still love you and I’m still proud of you.
Even though your old ass won’t go to Cardinal games anymore unless the high is under 80. Seriously Pops, it’s called summer.