All is Quiet On Father's Day

Father's Day is the hind teat of holidays. God forbid anyone forgets Mother's Day -- there is hell to pay. Last year, D2 didn't get around to sending her email to Wifey until later in the day, and that was a catastrophe. This year, Wifey, in the classic mold of HER mother, who uses guilt like a surgeon wields a scalpel, told her "Don't worry --this year you don't have to send an email at all." D2 knew better, of course, and saved the day with some words about how her mother is always there for her, etc... But Father's Day? Ha. Wifey planned a trip to Atlanta, where she sits as I write. When D1 reminded her her Baby Daddy's day was today, Wifey said "Oh yeah -- want me to change my trip?" No thanks, I said, what I DON'T want as a FD gift is a hefty AA change fee... And so it is. I guess I'm a tad bitter, since I ain't had no Dad to celebrate FD with for 34 years now. I don't even remember my Dad's last FD -- actually, I guess I do. It would have been late June, so he would have been in the hospital recovering from his serious heart attack. He was released from the hospital near the end of June, seemed fine, and then had the massive MI on July 14. So year, I got a major FD issue. When Wifey's father was alive, we'd always celebrate. We'd typically take him to Canton, his go-to restaurant, and order him the sizzling steak, which he always praised in his heavy Yiddish accent as "good and soft." If a steak was hard -- forget it. The sizzling one, made of who knows what kind of beef, was soft. The final three FD's we spent either taking Richard to Soyka, the restaurant near Miami Jewish, or bringing food to the facility. There's only so much happiness celebrating a holiday in or around a nursing home. My friend Jeff called yesterday, to wish me a happy FD. I said the same to him -- he was headed today to spend the day with HIS father. I started thinking -- there are so few of my friends' fathers still alive. Jeff's is one, my friend Kenny still has his Dad, a retired music teacher, and my friend Norman has Max -- thankfully still vital and happy and living an awesome life. I couldn't really think of any other fathers in my circle of friends... Last weekend I was in NYC, and D2 and I celebrated early. She gave me such a precious gift -- her time and indulgence, as we walked the chilly, windswept boardwalk at Jones Beach. I spent memorable times there with my Dad, and now I have the memory of walking there with my D2. Today, D1 and her man Joey are hanging with the old guy. I scored three behind the dugout seats for a Marlins game, and we head there for 1 pm first pitch. I love Fish games, mostly since the new stadium sits on hallowed ground -- where the old Orange Bowl used to be. I purposefully never park in the garages -- I find front yard parking with one of the old houses -- that starts the memories ticking. And then I'll pass an open grass field, and see, in my mind, the classic tailgate parties. Ed Perse, Mike's Dad, held court. He became a surrogate Dad to me when I met Mike in law school, in '83. If there's an afterlife, I like to think he and my Dad Hy somehow met in heaven -- two opposites in many ways. Ed, a Catholic from Milwaukee, politically conservative, and huge sports fan. My Dad, the Liberal NY Jew, not so much into sports. But both loved a good corned beef sandwich, and both lived for their kids. Yeah -- they'd have plenty to talk about. Before baseball, I'm meeting Norman and 1/3 of his awesome son contingent, Benji. We're headed to LOL for breakfast, of course. We'll hopefully be served by our favorite, Lori, who never had kids, but is the LOL Mom to so many over 30 years working there. So come to think of it, Father's Day is ok, after all. I sure still miss my Dad, though. I miss him each day.