Father's Day
Today is, as the checker at the co-op put it, “the Hallmark card holiday for celebrating male genetic material donors.” Then he asked me if I was included in the group being feted and I allowed that I am.
So, hooray for me and for all male genetic material donors, especially those who are actively involved in their kids’ lives.
Instead of the traditional (tradition being anything done at least twice) trip to the horse racing track, we’re heading out on a camping trip today. I remain as ambivalent as ever about an activity that requires so much advance planning; however, I’m really looking forward to a couple of days sleeping outside and having beer for breakfast.
We’re heading down to a place called Grayland Beach, west of Aberdeen, that being Kurt Cobain country, I guess. Last year, we went a bit farther south, to Cape Disappointment; one of the main things we hope to be able to do is ride out bikes on the beach as we did that time.
My own dad wasn’t much of a camper; the closest we ever came to sleeping in a tent was the Winnebego trip that he, me, and my best friend at the time, Timmy Short, took through the National Parks in Montana and Wyoming when I was thirteen. His own vacation tastes ran more to sitting in a deck chair at the beach or dining at nice restaurants and going to art museums in big cities.
So, I guess it’s to be expected that for me, being a happy camper does not always entail camping.
After going to Africa last year, I came back all energized about the out of doors and adventuring into it. I still feel that way by and large, but I just wish it were easier to get to.
On this Father’s Day, though, I’ll revel in the preparations, however complicated they are. This is my breakfast in bed and I’m enjoying it.
So, hooray for me and for all male genetic material donors, especially those who are actively involved in their kids’ lives.
Instead of the traditional (tradition being anything done at least twice) trip to the horse racing track, we’re heading out on a camping trip today. I remain as ambivalent as ever about an activity that requires so much advance planning; however, I’m really looking forward to a couple of days sleeping outside and having beer for breakfast.
We’re heading down to a place called Grayland Beach, west of Aberdeen, that being Kurt Cobain country, I guess. Last year, we went a bit farther south, to Cape Disappointment; one of the main things we hope to be able to do is ride out bikes on the beach as we did that time.
My own dad wasn’t much of a camper; the closest we ever came to sleeping in a tent was the Winnebego trip that he, me, and my best friend at the time, Timmy Short, took through the National Parks in Montana and Wyoming when I was thirteen. His own vacation tastes ran more to sitting in a deck chair at the beach or dining at nice restaurants and going to art museums in big cities.
So, I guess it’s to be expected that for me, being a happy camper does not always entail camping.
After going to Africa last year, I came back all energized about the out of doors and adventuring into it. I still feel that way by and large, but I just wish it were easier to get to.
On this Father’s Day, though, I’ll revel in the preparations, however complicated they are. This is my breakfast in bed and I’m enjoying it.
1 Comments:
Well I would’ve thought that Catholic countries would’ve had Hallmark beat on this. Here in Spain, as in Italy, Father’s Day falls on St. Joseph’s Day (March 18th, I think). By extension I wrongfully thought that practice would be quite extended to other catholic countries. But no. Hallmark wins! Most countries celebrate Father’s Day on the third week of June. Now why would I care about that? Keep writing.
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