Though my dad hadn’t
finished high-school when he joined the Navy in 1936, he returned from WWII and
the Korean War with an almost unexplainable appreciation for what often seemed to me like an excruciatingly
average life. Becoming a master electrician with training he acquired largely
in the Navy, he possessed a deep love for his skilled trade and the good life
provided through that important and honest work.
Like many blue-collar construction vets of his time, my father was deeply patriotic and quite socially conservative. I believe the last democrat he voted for was LBJ (feeling Goldwater was just too extreme), but he loved his union (the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) and despite his individualism he believed to the core that he had a far better existence because of wages and benefits provided through collective bargaining than anything he would have attained on his own. In many ways, I think he embodied the principles of a lot of his generation, and at least to me, he was a man’s man who loved his wife, his family, his work, his union, and his country at levels I don’t have the talent to convey. Though it probably seems corny, I think he saw himself as a truly rich man.
One of the traits that always tripped me out about my father, was the fact that he had almost zero tolerance for complaining or self-pity. Since his life had been far more difficult than mine would likely ever be, he didn’t have much patience for general bellyaching, and he certainly had little sympathy for my all-too-frequent references to personal hardship. Though he never said so, given his experiences living through the Depression and taking multiple Kamikaze hits on the USS Ticondaroga, I suspect my life must of looked like a cakewalk to him. That was one of the problems with his old-school rigidity…he just didn’t appreciate all that I had to deal with in the modern era.
Like many blue-collar construction vets of his time, my father was deeply patriotic and quite socially conservative. I believe the last democrat he voted for was LBJ (feeling Goldwater was just too extreme), but he loved his union (the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers) and despite his individualism he believed to the core that he had a far better existence because of wages and benefits provided through collective bargaining than anything he would have attained on his own. In many ways, I think he embodied the principles of a lot of his generation, and at least to me, he was a man’s man who loved his wife, his family, his work, his union, and his country at levels I don’t have the talent to convey. Though it probably seems corny, I think he saw himself as a truly rich man.
One of the traits that always tripped me out about my father, was the fact that he had almost zero tolerance for complaining or self-pity. Since his life had been far more difficult than mine would likely ever be, he didn’t have much patience for general bellyaching, and he certainly had little sympathy for my all-too-frequent references to personal hardship. Though he never said so, given his experiences living through the Depression and taking multiple Kamikaze hits on the USS Ticondaroga, I suspect my life must of looked like a cakewalk to him. That was one of the problems with his old-school rigidity…he just didn’t appreciate all that I had to deal with in the modern era.
The U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Ticonderoga (CV-14) lists to port in the aftermath of a kamikaze attack in which four suicide planes hit the ship, 21 January 1945.
When I was a teenager, and felt quite certain there was empirical evidence to indisputably prove I was truly all-knowing, I had the unflattering habit of blaming any perceived trouble or crisis I might be having on just about anyone or anything but me. Thinking back, it is amazing how much I knew from about 13 to 30, and how much clarity I had when it came to identifying the flaws of others. Though I had experienced little in the way of real life, I had developed this uncanny ability to have the answers to just about everything.
As those of you
know that are blessed with this gift, this type of supreme knowledge comes at a
price. Since I indeed knew so much, I was always aware when the world was
conspiring against me. Thankfully, knowing my father had little patience for my
insights, I wisely muted much of my crying about my problems…especially
when he was around.
One afternoon, while I was working out in the gym he had constructed for me in the huge garage of our comfortable West Los Angeles home, I remember my father was puttering around as he loved to do and on this day he seemed to be working on the pool heater. In an all-too-frequent lapse of judgment, I forgot who I was with and launched into a longwinded diatribe about my latest dilemma. As I remember it, it was likely about an idiotic teacher, some stupid former friend, an incompetent coach or worst of all, some shortsighted girl that didn’t truly appreciate the attributes of a gifted young man. To be honest...I'm guessing it was probably a little about all of those things.
One afternoon, while I was working out in the gym he had constructed for me in the huge garage of our comfortable West Los Angeles home, I remember my father was puttering around as he loved to do and on this day he seemed to be working on the pool heater. In an all-too-frequent lapse of judgment, I forgot who I was with and launched into a longwinded diatribe about my latest dilemma. As I remember it, it was likely about an idiotic teacher, some stupid former friend, an incompetent coach or worst of all, some shortsighted girl that didn’t truly appreciate the attributes of a gifted young man. To be honest...I'm guessing it was probably a little about all of those things.
Despite my father’s
clear lack of understanding and insight into problems brought on by others, he
continued to putter around and patiently listened without interrupting. When I finally
finished, he asked a couple of questions for clarification and it seemed clear by his line of questioning that he had
been listening intently. It also seemed clear that he was uncharacteristically beginning to get
an appreciation for both my problems and my justifiable status as the victim.
Then, after some
delay…he asked how bad I wanted to truly understand the root of the problem.
Because these substanitive exchanges with my father were rare, I was yearning for any insight he
might have into how I was wronged…or what external force deserved the blame for
my latest dilemma.
Then, he stopped what
he was doing, walked over to me, and asked me one more time if I wanted to know
the source of the problem. Once I assured him I did, he
tugged on my sleeve and gently guided me over so I was looking directly into the
mirror that covered the west wall of the gym area...just below the speed bag. As we stood there
gazing at our reflections in the glass, he pointed at me and said the following.
“Now…if you really want to find the problem, stand here long enough and it
should become clear to you. If you stand here long enough, you’ll probably find
the solution too.”
My father has been gone for almost seven years now, but there are times when I wish he was still around to point me into that glass. Even now, when I’m perplexed at how I ended up at the center of an unpleasant situation, I am amazed how often I reluctantly recognize I had complete control of the wheel all along the way.
Not sure what you’re doing this weekend, but whatever it is, I hope it’s good. You’ve probably been working pretty hard, so please take some time to recharge these two days with the people (and pets) that you love. Most of the work stuff you're stressing about now won't even be on the radar screen when you fade away at the end.
My wife and I were sitting in the lobby of an upscale hotel in downtown Denver this past Veterans Day enjoying $5 dollar cups of flavored coffee while we looked out at the picture window at a developing holiday street scene framed by the snowcapped Rocky Mountains in the distance. The plushness of the atmosphere only highlighted the chasm between the struggles of my Depression era/World War II veteran father and my comparatively privileged life of leisure as a result of his generation’s noteworthy sacrifice. As we sat there in the sunlight, this catchy tune was playing in the background. The song seemed eerily familiar…but somehow I knew it was relatively new. I thought the singer sounded like Tammy Wynette or some such…but when I googled the lyrics later in the day…it appears this musician might even be a dude. You never know.
Close your eyes and see...
My father has been gone for almost seven years now, but there are times when I wish he was still around to point me into that glass. Even now, when I’m perplexed at how I ended up at the center of an unpleasant situation, I am amazed how often I reluctantly recognize I had complete control of the wheel all along the way.
Not sure what you’re doing this weekend, but whatever it is, I hope it’s good. You’ve probably been working pretty hard, so please take some time to recharge these two days with the people (and pets) that you love. Most of the work stuff you're stressing about now won't even be on the radar screen when you fade away at the end.
My wife and I were sitting in the lobby of an upscale hotel in downtown Denver this past Veterans Day enjoying $5 dollar cups of flavored coffee while we looked out at the picture window at a developing holiday street scene framed by the snowcapped Rocky Mountains in the distance. The plushness of the atmosphere only highlighted the chasm between the struggles of my Depression era/World War II veteran father and my comparatively privileged life of leisure as a result of his generation’s noteworthy sacrifice. As we sat there in the sunlight, this catchy tune was playing in the background. The song seemed eerily familiar…but somehow I knew it was relatively new. I thought the singer sounded like Tammy Wynette or some such…but when I googled the lyrics later in the day…it appears this musician might even be a dude. You never know.
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