The Unsung Dad

Every other Friday, I write a column for my local newspaper. As luck would have it, my turn came up today -- two days before Father's Day. Here's what I wrote.

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As a father for 11 years (that includes two years of raising a Labrador retriever puppy, which should be made a prerequisite for parenthood), I've found that society tends to view me and my fellow dads as second-class parents.

When fathers are absent from a family -- physically or emotionally -- everyone rages about how awful it is, especially for the children, and socioeconomic studies justify this. However, when we're there day in, day out "-- does anyone really notice? I mean besides at my daughter's dance school, where I'm usually the only male beyond the age of Huggies hanging around the waiting room.

I admit, this expectation to just be there is a bed that past fathers have made and that present and future fathers must lie in -- unless you revel in it, like Michael Lewis, the acclaimed author of "Moneyball." He writes all about his lack of interest and participation in being a third-time dad in the new book "Home Game: An Accidental Guide to Fatherhood." From what I've read in it, I'm not sure whether I feel sorrier for his kids or his wife.

I don't advocate the extreme of fathers walking around with fake pregnancy bellies and bemoaning their inability to breastfeed any more than I do them fulfilling the "Cat's in the Cradle" prophecy. There is a middle ground and I know several fathers today who stand firmly on it, through calm and earthquake alike. We help with the income, the housework, the schoolwork and our children's big questions in life such as "How can I get my Jigglypuff to evolve?" However, this role we generally perform under the radar, without a special "soccer mom"-like demographic label that marketers and politicians lust to capture, or the fanfare of an Oprah special edition on how we cope with having it all.

Dads -- pfft -- we can't even organize and promote ourselves. Am I right, ladies?

I admit that I occasionally feel slighted by the lack of general acknowledgment, but more and more I've come to accept my humble lot. This is because I've realized that the people who matter -- my wife and my children -- already know that dads are parents, too.

However, with Father's Day approaching, I'd like to offer some small appreciation to the other unsung fathers who quietly do their thing "-- in particular, my own.

Dad, thanks for all the years of providing me with shelter, food and a good life by working like a dog. Speaking of dogs, I know you tried many times to convince Mom to let me have one. It was a futile exercise, I know, but I appreciate you repeatedly going to bat for me.

On the subject of bats, thanks for all the catches and extra hitting practice over the years. I'm sure it all contributed to your need for rotator cuff surgery a few years back. Sorry. Thanks also for attending nearly all my games, especially junior year in high school when I spent the entire season warming up the pitchers in the bullpen.

Thanks for Sunday mornings. They started as post-church breakfasts at Friendly's, then became donuts from Beldotti Bakery, baseball cards and the New York Daily News. All influences on my life; not necessarily good ones, but special ones.

Thanks for The Talk before college and knowing that "don't be stupid" was all you needed to say.

Finally, thanks for not practicing birth control that one time, or else I couldn't thank you for anything at all.

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Most of my columns (like my blog posts) garner little feedback. But late this morning, I found this e-mail in my inbox:

Beaver:

Thank you for the Shop-Vac and the cards. Right on!!
I read your editorial this morning and it made me cry!! But happy Son.
Look forward to tomorrow's game.

Your Dad

Yes, my dad does actually call me Beaver once in a while (as do some of my close friends).

Yes, I got my dad a new wet/dry vacuum for Father's Day (his was about 25 years old and still using the original filter).

And yes, I apparently choked the old man up.

Saturday, he'll come watch me coach my daughter's soccer team.

I think I'll be in for a hug.

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there -- hot and otherwise.