Some fathers do these things.
Some parents go to the Columbus Public Library used volume marketing in about 1980 and buy five big boxes of books on every topic. They place those volumes in a playroom and they result in a consistently relevant personal library for his kids. Every year they learn something new out of that room.
Some parents take their sons and daughters to Computer Express, a small computer store, after taking you to Radio Shack and Sun TV and deciding the prices there are too high. Some parents help you decide on an Atari 800 XL with tape drive and they buy you River Raid to go with it.
Some parents buy you a modem and let you call BBSes all night.
They take you to Boy scout and help you win the local Pinewood Derby. They drive you to Bell Labs where you learn UNIX and shell scripting.
Some parents sit with you and type in programs out of the back of ANTIC Magazine.
They convince the family it wants a puppy and picks a special breed, a Kerry Blue Terrier, because it doesnt shed.
They get drunk at the Sheraton hotel bar happy hour and fall out of the car and turn you off alcohol until late in college. Thats when you really find you have a savour for it.
Some fathers help you with your science fair projects and explore wind power with you by making balsa wood models of various types of generators.
Some parents give you telephone wire, broken stereo, and a soldering iron and tell you to experiment. You do. Some fathers have a garage full of tools and show you how to cut timber and fix brakes and listen to NPR on a broken radio.
Some parents buy you a Packard Bell 286 and help you learn programming.
Some parents leave a basket of vinyl in the basement and in it you find Dylan, the Stones, and Janis Joplin, thereby making you the least pop-culturally-aware high schooler in Columbus.
Some parents work for 40 years at the same boring task to pay for a house and food.
Some fathers take you to Europe and present you the magical of travel. They buy you Mad Magazine in German.
They take you to Mad Magazines offices in Manhattan where you meet Dick DiBartolo, Nick Meglin, and Bill Gaines. That could inspire you to be a writer.
They marvel at your new fiction, The Tale of the White Worm , you write when youre twelve. They edit your school essays and, one night, they write an entire research paper about The Crucible for you because youre sick.
Some parents drive you from college to college looking for the right one. Then some fathers go drive you back from the right college each summer because you dont have a car.
Some fathers help you sell your car when you move to Poland for work.
Some fathers come to your bridal in Warsaw.
They Skype you almost every day, leaving cryptic messages and posting connections from Craigslist. Some parents listen to Rush Limbaugh all day because hes a pleasant distraction.
Some parents drive twelve hours to visit you in Brooklyn.
Some parents get grumpy.
Some parents still induce you laugh.
Some fathers get lung cancer.
Some fathers stimulate you scared.
Their failing health fosters you to run again and cease drinking because watching a human who seems so much like you get sick is frightening. But it also encourages you to reconnect with him.
I know: Some fathers beat you. Some parents leave you. Some parents die early. Some fathers are cruel. Some fathers succumb inside.
But some of us get lucky.
Some fathers are great. Some fathers are kind. Some parents train, expand, and elucidate. Some fathers give all.
Some of us get lucky.
Happy Parents Day.
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