We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
As we grow up, we realize that no Dads are "great men" in the usual sense. Just as flawed as we are. But, in my view, any Dad who sticks by his kids and keeps 'em in sneakers is a darn good one.
Like all of Lex's postings, this essay is wonderfully well done. All of us, especially us writers, wish we could write a farewell reflection to our Dads as good as this one is.
Our country has been blessed with great good men, some of whom are not well known. Here's a toast to all of these unknown heroes on Father's Day -- heroes who protected their families brought up their children gently but firmly, and taught them to face up bravely to the worst that this world could do to them. Lex is a true paradigm of these men, a great hero and a great father, whose son has just been made ensign at the USNA.
To all of you maggiesfarmers men, and to the men who guard our shores and protect us ... Happy Father's Day, you all.
Never criticise your parents until your own children are grown.
#2
Assistant Village Idiot
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2009-06-20 21:54
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Agree BD, to a point. My ol' man was a bastard though. At seven, small house, me watching him shave. He asks, do you believe in Santa Claus. Me, in uncertain voice, I think so. He, in return... well, there ain't' no fucking Santa Claus. Word for word.
Let's not make saints out of everyone... just because they have a 'title'. I criticize the asshole quite a bit.
The biggest shock of my life was when I turned 15 and found out I wasn't adopted. I had been my father's son for so many years, using his last name when I found that my sperm donor had never relinquished his parental rights, even though the scumbag had never even bought me a toothbrush in my whole life. I went to his house and told him that I wanted my father, the man who raised me to adopt me. He tried to make me feel sorry until he realized he would be on the hook for back child support, future child support and college. He quickly agreed to sign the papers. It is a weird feeling knowing how little someone wants you but is far outweighed by the knowledge that someone wants you so much he would charge hell in a gasoline overcoat. I am proud to be my papa's son.