17 June 2012

Happy Sunday: Let Us Be Men

What's this? A Happy Sunday post?  It's been a while, I know I know.  But it's summertime and the livin' is easy, folks.  Whatever that lyric means can be applied to my blog, because my posts since I've graduated are few and far between.

As one might figure on this day devoted to the honoring and celebration of fathers, husbands, and all the stalwart men who make our lives wonderful, this is a tribute to my dad.


Dad is a regular Renaissance Man.  He can fix anything, create anything, do anything.  He can race a dirt bike over 1000 miles through Mexico (and win!), design and build beautiful homes, run up Mount Whitney in  mere hours, paint masterpieces (and nails...seriously, he gives great manicures), and whip up gourmet meals worthy of appearing in Bon Appetit Magazine (which he subscribes to, as well as Outdoor Magazine and Sunset...eclectic collection).  He travels the world, runs a business, works harder than the average dad to give our family the life that we have, and volunteers for medical research (only because they make him run up and down mountains til he basically dies, and he's into stuff like that).  He kills the bugs that I run away from, gives me a run for my money during Jeopardy, and makes everyone around him laugh.  He is a walking music encyclopedia, an adrenaline junkie, and a philanthropist in his community.

In Austria, on the site where he proposed to my mom

He took the brakes off my first pair of roller blades.  I don't really know why, but I assume it was to teach me how to survive without them.  So I grew up tough (not as tough as he was hoping, probably) and mean and comfortable with crashing into things.  That's just the kind of dad he is.

He used to let me sip his beer when I was a curious toddler, enabling me to learn early on that beer tastes worse than some of the things I would find and consume in our garage.  So that worked out.

He once sewed up my shirt using grass when I ripped it wide open after jumping from a swing set at the park.  So I guess he's a seamstress, as well.  And cares about his daughter's decency in public.

I'm lucky to call such a man Dad and I admire him a million times more than I let him know.  He truly is a real man.  Happy Father's Day to my dad and yours.


1 comment:

  1. I cry every single time I hear that story about his mom. Without fail. Such a wonderful talk. I can attest to your dad's culinary skills: he makes amazing apple cider.