Saying thanks on Father's Day
This Father’s Day will be the first one celebrated by my youngest son, Daniel. He and his wife, Meggan, are the proud parents of a 3-month-old named Wesley Leif, which puts me squarely in the middle of a line of fathers who share the same last name.
My own dad, now rolling toward his mid-80s, is a well-known commodity to Daily Bee readers, who depend upon the Bob Gunter byline for nuggets of history, introductions to fascinating people and whimsical ruminations that fall somewhere between Mark Twain and Will Rogers in their ability to deliver humor with a simultaneous wink and a sharp elbow.
On this Father’s Day, I’d like to give his readers a sense of how the man ticks and thank him for some of the life lessons he passed along.
My father taught me to love music. When I was a kid, we’d sit together for hours wearing headphones and listening to reel-to-reel tapes of symphonies, Broadway shows, bluegrass bands, folk singers and the latest rock group that caught his wandering ear. Nothing was off limits and I never heard him mention a kind of music he didn’t like.
He taught me to plant a garden. My favorite outing with dad was always the nursery, where we’d stroll the aisles and pick out plants and packets of seed. My friends thought he was nuts, because he’d replaced our back lawn with his “farm” - rows of corn and beans, squash and tomatoes. To this day, he tends a backyard garden and grows tomatoes the size of small melons.
He taught me that toys are not just for kids. I don’t remember ever having a garage with a car in it. They were always converted to play rooms. At one address, it was a large and detailed model train display. At another, a massive slot car set filled the space. The most memorable conversion was a Tiki lounge, with bamboo mats on the wall and floor, fishing nets and glass buoys hanging from the ceiling. Weird, but kind of cool.
He taught me to abide with silence. Mom was a chatterbox and she passed that along to me. Dad, on the other hand, can drive for miles or sit for long stretches without saying a word. A raconteur, to be sure, he can also enjoy a visit where few words are spoken and he’s comfortable around others who share that trait.
There’s a lot more, like a passion for travel, an insatiable love of history and a fierce pride in one’s family, that also took root. But one of the most valuable things my father taught me is that people can change and parents are not perfect.
Mark Twain wrote: “When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” Apparently, my dad has kept learning, because he’s grown into one of my best friends and one of the coolest people I know.
n Dave Gunter is a feature correspondent for the Daily Bee.