My Dad retired as a volunteer firefighter back in 2002 after a 34 year career that saw him rise from a probational fireman to chief of the department. He’s a big, hulking guy of 6’2″, though time has caught up to him in the height department a bit. He had to investigate arson, watch as people lost everything they had to faulty wiring, gave mouth-to-mouth to unconscious people who threw up, and saw human remains that were almost unrecognizable in the wake of the detonation of an illegal fireworks factory.

But the only time I’ve ever seen him weep openly was when he and my mom thought I was lost or worse one summer afternoon when I was ten. I thought–and still think–I told my mother that I was going over to a friend’s house to work on a project after school. The friend lived across the street from the middle school and we walked over there and started working.

Turns out Mom and Dad didn’t know/remember this, and the grim minutes turned to agonizing hours when I didn’t arrive at home.

Dad, who was an assistant chief at this time, mobilized all of the firefighters and police in the town to look for me. One of them, one of Dad’s best friends and a good friend of mine, now, too, found me and radioed it back to Dad. It takes little motivation for Dad to lead-foot it and he was there in a flash. He jumped out of the car and ran to give me a bear hug. But I’ll never forget being shocked by his tear-streaked face when he pulled up.

I understand that perfectly now. We were at a birthday party for my youngest niece yesterday afternoon. It was at Caesarland, the Little Caesar’s answer to Major Magic’s, a veritable kidapalooza. I was watching Dale and Rachel, and started helping Dale out with a game he was trying to play. By the time I turned back to Rachel, she had vanished. I started the patrol with Dale at my side, looking for my littlest girl wandering about in her butterfly shirt.

I wasn’t finding her. I went back to our table and mouthed to Heather: “Where’s Rachel?” Surprised–”I don’t know.”

I left Dale with Heather and started searching. No luck. Slow, weaving in and out of the burgeoning crowd, with fear gnawing and growing.

Where is she?

Quiet panic.

Then, after agonizing minutes, I find her, sitting at the Grand Prix driving game, hopelessly trying to reach the pedals.

I carried her to Heather, who took her and seated her for lunch. I wandered a bit to walk it off (didn’t happen) and then sat right by her for lunch, the tears starting but not quite releasing, understanding my own father perfectly.

More »

Long time, no post. Sorry.

I have started to play board games with my older two children lately, and I have a rule–I don’t roll over and play dead so they can “win” a game. I will modify the rules so the game is easier for everybody, but throwing a game just doesn’t seem right. I also patiently explain to them where they went wrong and how to play a better game next time.

When they beat me–and they have already, in the classic Game of the States–it’s for real.

I think I’m doing the right thing, but any reality check is welcome.

More »

Vox populi.

A comment I heard on our local sports radio station, which had involved one of the hosts proudly admitting that he did all the shopping for the family. “Whipped” was the response of one of the other station employees, and a few callers.

One husband called in with this pithy rebuttal:

“‘Whipped’ is what men who don’t have a woman to go home to every night call men who do.”

More »

I’d like to tip my hat to Peter, whose post on the differing emotional needs of men and women made for a good conversation topic between Heather and I last night.

It rang true to both of us. And she pointed out the great imporance of number 2, “Conversation.” That’s probably my biggest failing, especially when the computer is on.

[Tragically, she simply doesn't understand how crucial it is for me to be a hands-on general when the Greek assault infantry and main battle tanks are trying to storm Istanbul during a particularly heated campaign in Rise of Nations. I daresay most women don't, sad to say.]

She recounted a positive example of this when I turned away from what I was doing, made eye contact and recited what I liked and didn’t like about particular plans we had been discussing. I had been following along while computing, and she knew she was getting through, but the body language was one of dismissal–until the moment I gave her my undivided attention.

We also went over the men’s list, some of which proved to be a revelation to her. Give Peter’s post a look–helpful, indeed.

More »

Thanks to Rob for the invite and kind words about my blog. Ditto his generous offer to host the first meeting.

One question: “Orange County”…Ohio? Indiana? Ontario? Because I know Michigan doesn’t have one.

And because this is a Dads blog, I thought this would be an ideal first link, to an MSNBC story about a father back from Iraq who surprised his six year old son at school.

Fair warning: you may notice a sudden increase in allergen sources near your computer.

More »