June 15, 2005
Father's Day
Father's Day is a commin' pholks.
No big deal for a guy with no known children of his very own, one might think.
And, at my new age of 61, (last week) a pretty good bet none on the horizon. Never say never, as the adage states. Bur really pholks my chances of being a father now surely are slimmer than the odds of my winning the Lotto. Even with factoring in the number of chances I take each week at the Lotto the bet on me being a Pappa must still be considered a long shot.
I'm pretty sure I could have been a daddy. I consider myself pretty darned lucky that I didn't, to my knowledge, get myself in a daddy way. Not that I was all that careful or all that smart on a number of bachelor occasions. Luck is a lady all right. But that's another story. Only once or twice did the pappa possibility pop up in my single years.
I was fortunate to have a good father–someone I have come to admire more and more each year, especially since I lost him quite a few years back. And since my older brother, Don, and his wife never opted for parenthood, I am the end of the line for the Shupers. That most certainly is a regret, everything considered.
But I still have mixed feelings about being a father. I think I would have loved to have the name carried on. A son, at least one, would have been great. I think about that more as time goes by. But would I have lucked out and got a boy on the first shot? Who knows? Would I have had to sire four or five children to get a son? Who knows?
Would I have been a good father? That's a good question. I enjoy kids. Not like Michael Jackson, but I have had step children and step grand kids and enjoyed some unforgettable times. Little League, soccer, scouting, Disneyland, baseball and even rehearsals.
Most kids seem to like me, but maybe that's ‘cuz I tend to act like them at times. Maybe too often for a guy my age. My refusal to grow up does have, I feel, some merit.
But there have been times when my impatience and quick temper have turned into not so pleasurable circumstances. Perhaps just like any father or grandfather. Perhaps not.
I have never had to change a diaper. I could do it, but given the option, I chalk up my virginity on that count as a plus, not a minus.
I still like to play games and like to tease young ones, to make things fun for them. To let them make fun of me.
On the other hand I have been known to create at least a mild scene during public encounters with other people's brats at restaurants, laundromats, baseball games, movies and especially in supermarkets or department stores.
My grandchildren aren't always angels. Heaven, and grandma and grandpa know. But I'll tell you pholks something, it's hard for me to remember any of them making really big scenes at a real restaurant. Fast food joints are an exception, for the most part, but with all the distractions, a little slack must be cut. If all kids were that good in restaurants, it would be a wonderful world.
Discipline is, however, a tough subject for me. I can't say I've never lashed out in anger. I have. It's something which has haunted me during my thoughts of how my kids would have turned out.
I was never abused as a child. I got a couple of belts strokes, and wooden coat hangers and switches found my bottom once or twice, but the only lingering wounds were to my ego and pride. I didn't behave out of fear, but the thought of possible consequences seemed to find a home in my young mind. That, I firmly believe, was a healthy way of growing up.
I've had some nice gifts and cards on Father's Day, also known as Husband's Day, in some cases, but I still wonder just how different my life would have been had I been on the receiving end of a real Father's Day accolade.
For all you fathers out there and for all of you who still have fathers, maybe you need to give this year's observance just a little bit more thought.
I'll be thinking on this Father's Day, as I always do. But, I will continue to buy Lotto tickets.
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