THE TYGRRRR EXPRESS

To quote rock group Spinal Tap, “The more it stays the same, the less it changes.”

With that, here is my column, “Hey mom, Wish dad a happy Father’s Day for me.”

Naturally, there are some minor edits for 2008 to give it the illusion of originality.

June 17, 2007 at 1:50 am (POLITICS, Uncategorized)

On Mother’s Day, a groundbreaking new blog expressed the following sentiments…

“I love you mom. Happy useless symbolic holiday. I love you too dad. Happy useless symbolic holiday in advance, in case I forget to call. It is Sunday. As always, I will give you the best gift that you always wanted, the one you never had when I was growing up…peace and quiet. I will call in the afternoon so as not to wake you up. Ok, who am I kidding, you will be up 5 or 6 hours before me anyway. I will call you in the afternoon so I can sleep in and get peace and quiet.

I would ask you when ’son’ day is, but then you would remark about how every day for 18 years was son day, and that you have the grocery bills to prove it.”

(2008 Update…My parents have dipped into their retirement savings because I still eat like a great white shark, and they have set up a food fund for me for my visit in December.)

Anyway Mom, today is Father’s Day. I know how it works. I call him up, and he asks me “Son, do you own stock in the telephone company? You just called a couple days ago.”

I actually have a very good relationship with my parents, but they are practical people, and not big on ceremony or symbolism. Outside of Veteran’s Day or Memorial Day, there are no important holidays. My dad wishes we could have “Shut the hell up and go to work Day,” where everybody just did that.

He is not interested in idle chatter. In past years I called him a couple days before Father’s Day, in case I forgot Father’s Day. Then I would remember, call again, and he would ask his favorite question “Is there a point to this conversation?”

I live 3000 miles away. Getting lunch is not possible. He is retired, and has no use for another necktie. The gifts he really wants I simply do not have the power to give.

“Dad, if you want the border protected, talk to the President. I have nothing to do with it.”

“Dad, I have no idea why Californians act like that. No, they are not my people. I just live here. I have already apologized for them.”

“Dad, just because I watch sports does not mean I turn over cars. I have no idea why they do it. No, they are not my people either.”

“Dad, I will get married on my timetable. No, I am not dating anyone seriously. Don’t worry, I will find somebody wonderful for you to hate very soon.”

(2008 update…The Chicago Cannonball and I are very happy. She insists my dad will like her. She might be right. He sometimes even likes me.)

Some of my dad’s gripes are totally valid. I grew up in a “Father Knows Best” household. Television today treats fathers like imbeciles, just another child for the mother to raise. My father was not a clown. He had a sense of humor, but he was serious about providing for his family. That is serious business.

He did not drink, do drugs, gamble away the rent money or sexually abuse the kids or the animals. Heck, in fact we had dogs, cats, birds, fish and iguanas, and he took care of them, as he did everything else. What was he supposed to do, rely on the kids to do it?

He made it clear when I was a kid that he was not my buddy. He was my father. We were not going to pal around. We still don’t. We have different interests, and lead different lives.

(2008 update…His hobbies still bore me to tears. My life of excitement underwhelms him.)

As I have mentioned before, he is a Holocaust survivor. There is not much to say about that except that it rendered him incapable to listen to me complain about how tough social studies class was.

Anyway Mom, tell Dad he has an exceptional son, and not in the “sit in the back of the little yellow bus” kind of way. So of course you both get a lot of the credit for that.

(2008 update…I am as delightful as ever.)

The truth is Pop, after the year you have had, all I really want for you on Father’s Day is to have what I want for you every day of the year…happiness and health. You had open heart surgery less than two months ago. I am glad you are already fishing again.

(2008 update…My Uncle Joey, my dad’s best friend, had quintuple bypass surgery a couple days ago. It was deemed successful. As for my dad, he is alive, but his surgery for some reason did not go as well as it could have. It was only a single bypass. I just wish the doctors would get it right already.)

For this Father’s Day, I want you to have the peace and quiet that eluded you while trying to raise children, deal with school systems, fix the roof, and deal with local bureaucrats who would not let you rig explosives to the mailbox to deal with the kids that kept bashing it in with baseball bats. I want you to have great weather on Father’s Day so you can go fishing, and not be cooped up inside the house.

I want the batteries on your remote to work properly, since lord knows I know what it is like to get up and have to walk three feet to change the channel. I want somebody somewhere in this world to like the same music as you, because for you to download files, somebody somewhere must have them.

Dad, I know you like brevity, so Mom can condense this column and just give you the fine points. I will make sure the phone call tomorrow is brief and to the point. The bottom line is I love you, and I wish many years of health and happiness to come.

(2008 update…I slept in, and will call you tonight. I hope your day went well. I know mine did. As I said, I slept in.)

Oh, and I have not done anything in the last few weeks that would cause you or Mom to have to change your last name or move addresses again.

(2008 update…Maybe it is better I just say nothing.)

I also checked the local milk cartons, and none of the kids are mine.

I am alcohol, drug and disease free, so between you and Nancy Reagan’s “Just say no” campaign, I turned out alright.

No, I will not stop watching football. I know you don’t get it. That’s ok. I don’t have to like the things you are interested in to love you as my dad. This is good, because I usually don’t like them.

Also, don’t tell me the next time I call that you are watching the Sopranos. I happen to know the show is over. I know, Thursdays is House. Mom can let me know about any other scheduling conflicts.

(2008 update…The Sopranos Finale sucked. I never understood what you and mom saw in a bunch of guys bada booming and bada binging. Now I can call on that night.)

Happy Father’s Day Dad. Oh, and wish Mom a Happy Mother’s Day for next year so I can get a head start, again in case I forget.

I love you both. Now can I go back to watching tv, since I know you want to do that as well? I watch Letterman, and you watch Leno, and some gaps cannot be overcome.

You know Dad, as much as I would have liked to have been the product of inherited wealth, for non-millionaires, you are the best parents a guy could ask for. No, I am not asking for money, I mean it. No, I did not get in trouble, I am saying it anyway.

I love you both. Happy Useless Symbolic Holiday, and Dad, good health and happiness always. You can’t be as cantankerous as you’re sometimes made out to be, because too many people are delighted to still have you around.

(2008 update…Never mind…you can be.)

Oh, and about that incident involving me, the neighbor’s mountain goat, my Asian friend, and beefaroni flavored pasta…don’t read the paper today. I will talk to you about it another day. I would rather you have a peaceful Father’s Day.

eric