What’s a Daddy to Do?

What can a child do for dad this Father's Day? This “holiday” conjures up images of wowing dad with a card, a fishing reel, or a trip somewhere. The feeling however, is not the same as the day set aside for mom. After all mother struggled for nine months to give you life, incurring every ache, pain, bloatation, and mood-swing known to humankind. You owe her big time. Dad’s part in that whole process was as coach, cheerleader, and late night delivery boy responsible for finding an all-night pistachio ice cream and sardine store at 3 o’ clock in the morning; all at a moment’s notice. Given the vast differences in such umbilical beginnings dad is at a distinct disadvantage.

He might be the one who has taught you to throw a ball, swing a club, or deliver a smooth line to a girl when trying to get to first base, but Father’s Day does not truly rival the hullabaloo of the guilt driven mothers day, which has a sacred halo status.

So how can you give tribute to this important man who, though overshadowed from an emotional standpoint by the woman of the house, still deserves something of appropriate honor? The options are limitless.

Many folks think of their dad as someone difficult to buy for. Sure you may think he has everything, but if you are careful to watch the interaction between mom and dad, then you’ll realize that dad either has nothing, does nothing, or looks like he does everything when in fact he does nothing. Dad is a clever character.

In the gift category you can usually buy dad something electronic. If it is a gadget that whizzes or bangs dad is usually as mesmerized as the family dog with the wind in his face, hanging his head out of the car window. Both have the same tail wagging experience when it comes to what they like. Satisfying dad is fairly easy. Why? Because compared to mom, dad is rather easy going. He’s seen the horrors of family life, and he knows to leave the heavy lifting to the General of the house. He’s happy he relinquished that role when the kids arrived! So cell-phones are nice, Tivo, Ipods, Palm Pilots and Blackberry’s will all suffice as a nice gift. A pinwheel with its wind driven motion would even keep the simple man entertained as long as there is enough of a breeze. It’s the same affect that you find with the family cat that is fascinated by the spot from a flashlight. You move it; they chase it, and bang their head on the closet door when the light runs up the wall. Dad is as easily distracted and amusing.

Where can you take him for a day of dad-like fun? Usually any sporting event will do. If there is a NASCAR, ladies, mud-wrestling, football game to be found he’ll be a happy camper. Hey camping; there’s another idea. Dad likes the great outdoors, sleeping with the insects and rolling around on a dirt floor. Usually dad is a couch potato so if you have a portable handheld television to drag with you wherever you take him, or transportation large enough to haul a couch, then you’re guaranteed to give him the best Father’s Day he’s ever known. Throw in a little dirt without a Laundromat and he’ll be in heaven.

For the outdoorsman dad, a nice day skeet shooting might be good. However, you might have to tolerate being seen with him in his puke green plaid shirts, vests and other hideous-like apparel. If he’s older he’ll need a belt. It’s hard to keep his pants waistband pulled up and secured around his chest without one. There is also the case of beer you can supply after such outdoor activity that will make him so happy that he’ll tell you stories that will make him cry.

You could also take dad to his favorite watering hole. No, not the tavern; I mean fishing. There he can show you the finer points of putting a worm on a hook, and of course how to drink enough beer to achieve a second- degree sunburn. How classic! Beet red on only his lower arms and legs; this is the hallmark of a happy dad.
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Still, a card is nice, or the old reliable standby, the tie, will show your appreciation too; especially if pictured on the tie is lady mud-wrestlers shooting, skeet from a stock-car while driving for a touchdown and casting out a line in hopes of catching the big one that got away.

One Man's Ceiling

How is one person’s junk is another’s treasure? You could say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but backing up one cliché’ with another is likely to have the word police hunt down a writer and slap him silly with a thesaurus. So let’s just say that people have differing views as what falls into the realm of valuable.

Have you ever driven through the neighborhood on trash day? Very often some piece of discarded furniture will catch your eye. It’s like passing an accident where you know you shouldn’t stare. Human nature being what it is however, the surplus travesty found can have you envisioning all sorts of things. Inside your head a little voice says “hey that would look nice in our pleasure room!” It’s like you see right past the scars and the way the whole thing tilts on a 25 degree angle. You could solve that problem and nail that sucker to the wall. It’ll be perfect. You can see it in place in your mind’s eye. At times like this someone needs to smack your mind and put some glasses over its socket!

Of course you find the occasional refrigerator, couch, or table that looks in better condition than what currently occupies your abode. It becomes tempting to trade the neighbor’s garbage with your own in-use furnishings. Talk about curbside appeal! No one wants to negotiate with the trash man to keep it from his clutches. Trash men are sort of like the mailmen. They have their appointed rounds, and some folks even give them Christmas cards. Grab that three legged table from the trash pile as he’s reaching for it and you might have a skirmish on your hands. No one wants the embarrassment of negotiating with the garbage engineer. After successfully bargaining the item from the grips of the city dump wagon, how tacky it is if you are seen smuggling refuse from someone’s heap and lugging it up the street. It’s better to wait for midnight, or at least night fall to make your move on that glorious early American replica yet legless foot stool. Not to worry you’ll find some use for it!

Many times before these cherished pieces hit the street an owner will try to unload it at the yard sale. Another favorite American tradition, this display of “crap I no longer want”, can be found in most towns and cities on any warm Saturday morning. Of course there are quasi-professional’s that attend these functions. They scour the classifieds and pay close attention to telephone pole sign postings of such impending loot free-for-alls. Many times they are so attracted toward these announcements that you can tell when they have found the event that they want to attend by the way their tongue hangs out of their mouth. The heavier the panting the better the prospect! You’ll know a pro because they are the one’s that show up considerably earlier than the start time listed on the yard sale announcement. Usually seasoned yard sale shoppers are eyeing the goods as the owner is still in “set up” mode, or for the real hard core early cases while the seller is still in “wake up” mode. When they find something they want it’s no matter to them that they are there before the sun comes up. Even if the owner is in their bathrobe they start in with the inquisition. They ask questions like a drill sergeant at Paris Island inspecting new recruits. So many questions are asked that the annoyed owner offers them the family heirloom armoire for a buck ninety eight just to shut them up and move them along before the bulk of the crowd really shows up. What the heck, they’d like to shower and have breakfast before the long day of selling anyway. These early shoppers are usually the persnickety type; sort of like your Aunt Bernice! She’s your parent’s sister that is always snickered about at the family function by those gathered in the kitchen while she is creating more controversy at the dinner table. These experienced yard sale folk want to out-do the average schlub and grab up all the good trash before the rest of us get there to find even slimmer pickin’s.

The dregs of the yard sale usually end up in the last round up where the trash truck has it in its sights. Still if it piques your curiosity there is no telling what lengths you’ll go to have the neighbor’s selected cast-off replaced by your own reject at your own curbside.

Of course there are many times when roaming through the housing development you’ll see something and say “geeze, can you believe the Joneses had such a dilapidated relic on display in their showplace of a home? It looks so bad that it could belong in our house”. Usually you have such a high opinion of the Joneses and their mantle boasts picture perfect smiles with an appropriate portrait fitting of being on the cover of Life Magazine. Two beautiful people with four lovely children who all have make-up and style down to the quintessential art form. It makes the rest of the neighborhood look like a gang of refugees from a third world nation who has just arrived via garbage scow. Nevertheless it is in their hideous reject where you could conclude that this glimpse of reality proves that they are no better than you, at least beneath the surface. In fact that couldn’t possibly be true. They have their groceries delivered, drive fancy cars and don’t pick through other people’s garbage. Their discards are usually the treasures for the rest of us. For them the sky’s the limit. After all one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. Look out! I hear the waffling sound of a word police thesaurus being aimed at my noggin.