Today was sunny, warm without humidity, a perfect day. And it happened to be Father’s Day. It’s commercial, for sure, and far less deserved than Mother’s Day, also born from commercial ideas.
But what the hell, commercial or not, I take advantage of it.
I played with the dogs (three dogs, three balls, get a rhythm going and we all get exercise).
My son came up and we played frisbee, talking pop culture, politics, videos, my office activities and his musical endeavors.
My daughter from Alaska called and I talked with her while working compost into the garden and pulling weeds from the moss that grows between the stones in my flagstone patio.
My son and I fired up the grill and all of us at the house feasted on hot dogs, bean salad and a key lime pie my wife whipped up. We ate on the deck, soaking up the sun. After he left, it was dog time again, then some weed whacking to sweat out all the nitrates and preservatives ingested from the hot dogs.
I skimmed through The Rolling Stone Interviews that my son had given me because I have lived a lot of my life in and through music.
Dinner on the deck again. Afterward sitting back, smoking a pipe, sipping coffee and watching the living art of changing clouds, thinking Hemingway never had it this good.
I caved and did some freelance work, finished a blog for my next post here and reflected back on a lovely day.
I hope all of you with children were appreciated by them, and I’m sure you were. I hope those of you who are
blessed with fathers still alive let them know how special they are.
The day is commercial, but it does serve to focus us and appreciate things, moments and people that are important.