HUNTER-GATHERER

I have gone through the usual struggles with my father growing up as many of us have with their own. Now that I approach the age my father was when myself and 3 siblings were in grade school, I appreciate him more than ever. In hindsight, he was right more times than I was and even when he was wrong, his heart was in the right place.
My parents always put us first. Rarely, if ever, going out to eat without us kids and we always vacationed together. They preferred to entertain at home and the experience of helping my mother in the kitchen or helping dad get drinks to our guests perhaps served me better than anything else in my 12 years in the restaurant business.
A gregarious, outgoing sort, dad brandished a Johnny Carson-like delivery as he engaged my friends in conversation when they came around. “Wow, you’re dad’s great” they would say as we walked out of the house. “Oh yeah”, I would reply, “you should come around during report card time when he turns into G. Gordon Liddy”. I wasn’t the best student and the fact that my folks were plunking down hard-earned dough to send us to catholic school didn’t really help my case.

Father’s day brings me to thinking about my own “hardwiring” and what can be attributed to Dad. He instilled the right understanding of the value of money, a work ethic, a wary eye for things trendy and flash, and a true sense of decency. There are also the numerous memories that I will always cherish and an abridged list follows:

*Being led by my father through downtown Detroit at night in it’s full, former splendor to see Santa at the JL Hudson Department store in a scene right out of A Christmas Story.

*My Dad hiding the toy M-16 replica machine gun with “real life-like sound” (that I mercilessly pleaded for)behind the couch until I had opened all my other Christmas presents.

*Seeing Tora, Tora, Tora and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid at the old Calvin theater in Dearborn, Mi. Anything at the snack bar was always fair game.

*The yearly auto shows and the Ford sponsored family activities that used to abound when the “Big 3″ were still the “Big 3″ in Detroit as well as the world. Dad worked for Ford for almost 50 years and took us to all of them.

*Going to Tiger games with him, my brother and my grandfather at what will forever be referred to as “the old Briggs Stadium” by my father. We would take the bus from my grandparent’s home in the Michigan/Livernois area which just added to the adventure as the pavement turned to cobblestones in Corktown and the majesty of “old Briggs Stadium” was revealed. Years later, after a very bitter argument between us that had me close to leaving home and quitting school, we patched things up there at a game versus the A’s.

*Taking me to Sears to buy a catcher’s mitt as Bill Freehan(c) was my favorite Tiger. The first pitch from my brother was low and outside. The second caught me square in the left eye.

*In love for the first time and without a car (definite problem in the burbs) I approached my dad for help in buying an old beater. He responded with a lecture about buying old cars and my lack of mechanical skills to maintain one. I left the room after the ensuing furor and ten minutes later he came out and calmly dropped a brochure for a Ranger pickup truck in my lap. Ford was running a cheap lease deal for employees and dad was way ahead of me. I got a black one, of course.

*Walking out one night in full punk rock regalia I passed my father as he was mowing the lawn and yelled, “see you at about 3, dad”. My father shut off the lawn mower just long enough to reply dryly, “looking like that, you might as well not come back”

*Desperately cramming (as usual) for an accounting final exam, I reached out to my dad at noon and asked if he could come early (he is an accountant) to help me. 20 minutes later, he was home from work and talking me off the ledge.

*My dad spends a lot of time in front of a PC. So for Christmas, a few years back, we all pitched in and bought him a laptop so he wouldn’t have to spend his days exclusively in the den. During the next few days, dad and I camped out at the kitchen table as software was installed and he got all his settings the way he liked them. Perhaps my favorite dad n’ lad project of recent memory.

As many of my generation have lost parents, I appreciate the fact that mine are still around and we get along better than ever. For the last 10 years or so, I always tell my parents I love them before I hang up the phone. My mother always enthusiastically responds in kind but my father will pause and only say,”okay son”. I know he loves me, I guess he might just feel awkward saying it.
Last summer, a close friend of my father’s passed away after a long illness. The family of the man had suffered through a rather tumultuous relationship with him for decades. I asked my father if his friend had made peace with his children before passing and he said that he didn’t think so. We both commented on the sadness of the situation and the final lost opportunity.
As the conversation wound down, as always, I said, “I love you Dad”. My father replied, “okay son” and then added “I love you too”.

Happy Father’s Day Dad.