Just because it’s Father’s day this weekend, you think I’m so predictable that I’m going to write about it. Wrong.
Well, not right off the bat at least. First I need to bitch. To have a good bitch indeed, about the 3 ton package left at my gate yesterday. The one I had to bend my knees while picking up so I didn’t throw my back out. The one I had to put down twice before getting to my front door. The one I said “are you F-ing kidding me” aloud about once I opened, followed by , “this is nuts.”
Many of you have guessed what I’m talking about by now because you too received this 3 ton Tessy and had to lug it into your own domain. Tell me I’m not alone in saying “I’m never stepping foot in Restoration Hardware” again. And the crazy thing is; I rarely do!
After unwrapping what turned out to be their “yearly catalogue” of 9 separate books, 9, weighing in at 11 pounds 40 oz my first thought was how out of touch are these people. They’ve been in the back of that hardware store way too long. When my husband walked into the kitchen where I was apparently not having silent thoughts over “these people” at all, he asked what I was “bebering about.” “Look”, I answered , “Look at this bookstore that just arrived from RH…and what’s with this RH business, Royally Heinous, RH! Just look at this WASTE,” shouting in case it wasn’t obvious.
“You should write about it” he said turning on his heels, done with my rant. He sees this now as the solution to all my worldly upsets. “Just go write about it” like taking myself off to my little corner of the world to rant and rave will spare him my ranting and raving. He is so right! No longer does he begrudge a dime spent on my nifty little website! He’s got some peace!
This morning when I turned on the CBS Morning Show with Charlie, Gail and Norah (the answer to that sunken ship, The Today Show…talk about aging disgracefully…) at 8:05 they were in full tilt banter about ; that’s right, the brouhaha over the Restoration Hardware catalogue. Seems I have major company in my reaction. Defending their uber mailing, the top brass at RH claim they have no other way to properly highlight their merchandise. You know what…Find one. I personally haven’t been in a RH store in seven years so why are you sending me 12 pounds of pictures I’m not going to look at. Get with the program RH!
Phew that felt good. Now I can go on to bigger and better; fathers! We love fathers! We need fathers ! We are grateful , grateful, grateful for fathers. Good fathers . People turn out better with a good father around. Boys. Girls. Both need them just as much. And I do think Fathers Day is underplayed compared to Mothers Day. Yea, yea, yea we’re the ones who give birth, do the nurturing, the day to day , etc, etc , but there’s nothing like a good dad. The advancement of technology hasn’t taken away that job and never will.
My girls have a great dad, one of them actually has two great dads. We call that a bonus around my house, especially with college prices being what they are but we needn’t get into household business.
The best dad I’ve ever met though is my little brother. He has three boys a little over a year apart in age . The top and bottom boys have special needs and the filling in between is a total non-stop jock.
My brother has “the patience of a saint” as they say in the old country , or in my house when I was little. He called me a couple of weeks ago. He was in his car driving out to the country with all three boys in the car. He must have hit my number during down time in the back seat but by the time my voice traveled through his Bluetooth, the troops were “up and at’ em,” as my Marine corps father would say. My brother’s asking me what’s new, how my daughter’s graduation was, does she have a summer job, as all hell sounds like it’s breaking loose in the car.
“Gimme That!” No! ” “Give it now!” ÄHHHHHHHHHHHHH” “No” “Am gonna kill you ”
“AHHHHHHHHH” “Dad!!!” These are just the words , and screams, I can make out. I feel like I’ve got one good nerve left and it’s about to snap as I try to talk over the noise that has become intolerable to me. But my bro…cool as a cuke. And he’s that way all the bloody time!
When his eyeballs hang down past his chin he’s so tired, he’s present, with loving arms around his boys.
Here’s one of my favorite Dad stories. Junior, my friend, Cynthia’s family’s beloved and elderly mutt, was at the vet. The family was all there, Cynthia’s two sons, Kai and David , brothers to Junior they both loved him so much, and Cynthia’s husband, Olu, who was also very fond of Junior and had come to look forward to their evening walks together. They gathered around the stretched out Junior as the vet, in a monotone voice used to saying these things, told them all that their family dog was dying. He went on to say that an operation could save him but that the chances were slim. Olu heard these words and being a doctor himself, a kidney specialist, in fact, took them in. Cynthia, looking at her sons faces,( not 5 or even 10 year old faces, at this point both boys were in their late teens) said “how much” in a low voice. The doctor said “four thousand,” in a low voice. The “What” that came out of Cynthia’s mouth next wasn’t in such a low voice.
After looking at his boys faces and seeing the sadness in both of them that he’d never seen before or ever wanted to see again, in his own low voice, Dr. Olu said, “operate.”
‘Nough said. Except …the happiest of Fathers Day to all of the beautiful dads and stepdads and uncles and big brothers who stand in for dads, out there. You are a blessing and a gift. You should be applauded for all of your hard work. It aint easy. And it aint cheap . God bless you all.