Why a Paleo Breakfast is the Perfect Memory of My Father
Stanley, Junior was a Depression-era baby. Born prematurely, he slept in a sock drawer for the first year of his life. Even when he became a modern American male (read: got fat), his Father still called him "Peanut". The copious amounts of Schmidt's beer that my Grandfather drank did nothing to dampen his sense of humour.
Andre had steak and eggs for breakfast today. It reminded me that this was Dad's favorite breakfast. The first time I saw him eat this was at the International Hilton in Vegas. He felt like a king. It didn't look like a particularly good steak, as I recall (I think it had marks where the jockey was hitting it, to quote my favorite raconteur -- R. Dangerfield) but he felt like a high roller. This, despite the fact that his gambling money was dolled out in sealed envelopes by my Mother. When Stash inevitably emptied the day's mad money ($20 -- probably a day's net pay in 1972), he'd stand silently behind her on the casino floor until she told him, without turning around, that he wasn't getting any of her stash...Stash).
The History of Father's Day
I have never been a big fan of what I've always termed the 'Hallmark Holidays'. This started when I bought my Mother a sewing kit and wrote "Mom...I think?" on the card. This alone set her off, causing Aunt Helen (my paternal Grandmother's sister -- she of "don't you wipe?" fame when she did my laundry once) to chastise me as an unfeeling, uncaring little bastard. Given that I was adopted, she couldn't have hit me harder. My Father had only one response when I asked him what I could buy him for FD: "Buy something for your Mother." I used to laugh aloud at this inane answer, until I grew up and developed the ability to think of others first (an attribute still being fertilized).
Father's Day came after Mother's Day in the US, as you might've guessed. It started in tragedy (in this case, not caused by a sewing kit or a 10-year-old's sense of humour). An explosion in the Monongah mine in West Virginia killed 362 men in West Virginia, 250 of whom were fathers. A memorial to honor the lost fathers (and the more than 1000 children they left behind) was the first known celebration dedicated to fatherhood.
Formalization of this paternity party came in Washington state in 1910, thanks to the efforts of Sonora Smart Dodd, daughter of a Civil War vet. She heard a sermon in church about Mother's Day and thought, since her own mother died in childbirth, fathers deserved recognition as well. She wanted it to be June 5th, her father's birthday (did it ALL have to be about you, Sonora?!?), but the Spokane Ministerial Alliance chose the 3rd Sunday in June. President Wilson sent a telegram acknowledging the practice in 1916. President Johnson signed a proclamation honoring Father's Day in 1966 and President Nixon, the father of the EPA and Chinese restaurants in the US, made it an official federal holiday, giving exactly 0 fathers a day off with pay since it was on a Sunday. Tricky, Dick!
Another problem I have with Father's Day history is the name Sonora Smart Dodd. I have always thought my own name to be as exciting as Hellman's on white bread, even telling people in Las Vegas that my name was "Michael" during the aforementioned trip in the early '70s. Creativity was not my strong suit.
The Value of Fatherhood
Predictably, I feel differently about Father's Day now that I get to go to a restaurant with my kids and not have to drive home. It shouldn't be much about alcohol (the cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems), but I'll take what I am given.
Stanley, Junior has always been an icon to me. He was selfless to a fault. He never made it to college and worked as many jobs as there were hours available to him, so that Mom and I could have a nice home, decent clothes (wasted spending in my opinion, since dressing me up is akin to polishing a turd) and a vacation every year. A cousin started telling me gossip about the "Thompson boys" after Dad had passed. I interrupted her, wishing to keep the fixed (and romanticized) view I had of him undisturbed. I think this has been an important form of immortality for Dad. He guides my actions to this day, however much I fall short of his ideal.
Thanks, Dad. I will have an amaretto in your honor tonight, reflecting on my weaknesses compared to yours, knowing that you will again propel me to try to do better and better. I loved you and will continue to feel that until my last breath is drawn.
Happy Father's Day to all of you and your paternal memories.
