From One Father to All Others

 

Other than Christmas and the birthdays of a few select family members and close friends, I'm quite oblivious to holidays and festivities of all kinds, be they national, international, or all across the galaxy. Furthermore it seems that pretty much every group of people, or animals, or things, or activities, has some sort of "Day" these days. I think we pretty much jumped the shark as a species when the UN instituted WORLD TOILET DAY (it's on November 19th. Check it out, if you don't believe me). And just as an aside, why in the blazes is International Men's Day on the same date as World Toilet Day... Coincidence?? But let's move on.

So it should come as no big surprise that Father's Day usually comes as a big surprise to me. Which is exactly what happened again this year. The main indicator that something was afoot was that I received an early morning email with the subject line "Lack These Two Minerals And Risk A Permanent Limp Penis." Yup, definitely Father's Day. After ordering a month's supply of these "crucial penis minerals," I said to myself that something needs to be done about all of this, and grabbed my pen (a modern day metaphor for keyboard) and a freshly squeezed piece of paper (a modern day metaphor for computer screen) and got to work. The fruit of this labor you, dearest reader, are about to enjoy. Which I sincerely hope you will.

Once Per Annum

(A Father's Day Poem)

Composed by a father to honor fathers who are fathers, fathers who were, fathers who were fathers, and fathers who are, as of yet, to be fathers, and even fathers to be, as well as father’s fathers, fathers of fathers to be, and fathers of fathers who may not yet know that they are, will be, or may, perhaps, get a shot at being fathers. And now, before this goes any father, and without father ado, please sit back and enjoy (whether you’re a father or not).

Father! Father! Father!

We don't want to be a bother

We come with gifts

And presents, too

Some socks, a tie

And one brown shoe

The other one we sadly lost

But, nonetheless, we love you most

Because you're cool, and strong, and wise

And that should come as no surprise

So, on this day of fatherhood

We hope you're feeling extra good

Please know that we all do love you

Even with just one brown shoe

Written by Casual-T on the 20th day of the sixth month in the year 2021, according to the Gregorian calendar, somewhere in the middle of Indiana. How he got there, we may never know. Even he is not too sure on the specifics!

Reading, Writing, Oreos

With things being as they are in the world, I thought it might be a good idea to start this blog on a decidedly positive note. Here are some things I'm glad to be looking forward to, this week...

In lieu of

1. A garden to do garden work in (Did I mention that gardening is a fairly uncommon hobby in the Bronx?)
2. The fun prospect of moving cross-state (Did I mention that I'm quite passionate about hating moving?)
3. A 3-year old to visit an 82-year old with (Did I mention that I told my kids not to have kids any time soon?!)

I'm mainly looking forward to reading.

Last night I finished Sourcery by that man with the uncanny talent for fanciful wordsmithery, Terry Pratchett, which leaves me with the major task of figuring out whether I want to jump right into the next book in his Discworld series, Wyrd Sisters (can't get enough of Pratchett at the moment), revisit Solaris by Stanislaw Lem (another one of my favorites), or if I'll finally undertake the massive 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami (it's been on my list for a little while)!. Whichever way I'll decide to go, thanks to the suggestions of some fine folks out there in virtual land, I've gotten myself a copy of Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin, which I'll delve into alongside the winner of my little what-to-read-next competition.

I'm also looking forward to writing, in the hopes of being able to string together three or more words in a somewhat sensible fashion, with the intent of getting the hapless protagonist of my opus in progressu—a fancy space tale expected to hit bookstore shelves sometime within the coming millennium—into even more trouble, so as to amuse, beguile, or perhaps even enlighten any future readers (presently myself).

It's a fine concept.

Alas, what usually happens is that I write the three trouble-inducing words and then find myself rather confused as to how to get the poor lad back out of said trouble. To solve this dilemma I quite often end up devouring a pack of double-stuffed Oreos, while trying to think up that elusive fourth word, which will surely make the previous three make perfect sense.

Last but not least, I'm looking forward to looking backward and saying: "Hey, it could be much worse." Although it'll probably sound more like: "Mh, hm phmm hmpf mhh hhfm." (Did I mention the Oreos?)

Prey, do tell, what might you be looking forward to?