In honor of Father’s Day I thought I’d set aside some time to reflect on my relationship with my Dad. Here is what came out when I decided to attempt this.
It’s hard growing up. Everyone knows it. Even us kids who grow up in a home Norman Rockwell would have been happy to paint have a hard time of it. If you’re a boy then this probably has something to do with your dad. Whether or not your father was hateful, loving, absent, present but distant, or just a normal dad there is some chip on our shoulders with our dads. This isn’t some retrospective on manhood and the need a boy has for his father’s affirmation or anything (there are plenty of good books on stuff like that) or rather a poetic take on an absent father because I don’t know anything about that. Rather this is simply my attempt to understand my relationship with my father and the way that I do that.
My father is not me. I am not my father. He’s a former football player, an electrician, a sports fan, a stern man, and can fix anything in the world. I, on the other hand, am none of these things. When it comes to similarities, I am much more like my mother in every respect. Perhaps this is why, in my growing up process, we clashed so often. Or perhaps it’s just the fact that I was a teenager. Regardless of why, my father and I certainly had our fair share of disagreements. This isn’t to say that I never fought with my mother (in fact most of the time he was simply playing the strong arm of the pair, not enacting his own punishment) but I think that when my dad and I fought it was harder because we’re so very different. For example, my father has a temper. A BIG temper. It never took too much troublemaking to set it off (and there was always a fair share of troublemaking to go around). I, on the other hand, don’t really react to situations in the same way. In fact when I become irritated I turn into something everyone loves: a smart aleck. I know it’s one of my worst faults and something that’s probably going to keep me on the couch a few nights (if and) when I get married. It’s even worse that this is the way I react to my father’s anger because it only serves to make him angrier. I think sometimes it’d be better if I were one of my brothers and could simply have a yelling contest and be done with it.
I was also a rebellious kid. When I say rebellious I don’t mean that I was doing drugs, drinking underage, smoking (anything), partying, or anything like that. In fact I was in church every time I got the chance (some days I went even when my family slept in) and constantly on youth trips and hanging out with my youth minister. This isn’t to say that my rebellion was excusable but rather just to more accurately define it. I got into punk rock in high school thanks to two older influences (both of whom I still count as close friends). When I say punk rock I mean pop punk and when I say pop punk I mean Blink-182, Green Day, and all others to a lesser extent. My parents didn’t understand my taste in music and didn’t agree with what it stood for. The problem is that they tried to stop it and when you’re listening to punk, you’re already mad enough at authority that when your parents try and make you stop listening to it….it just gets bad fast. So there were many long nights of hard fights, broken CDs, snide comments, loud yelling, and that aching feeling that all teenagers get: “they just don’t understand.”
Still even through this time there are many good memories I have withy my pops and a lot of them take place in a movie theater. First of all you should know that my Dad is not a movie guy. At least not a movie guy like I am. When it comes to movies he’s just an average person. He watches them, he enjoys them, and there are some he enjoys more than others but that’s pretty much where it ends. Of course with me it’s always been more than that. For me, the cinema has been an escape, a place of solace, a place of belonging, the great educator, the good friend, and how I understand the world around me. So I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that the movies are also how I understand my dad. That the trips to the theater and the nights around the family TV were so important to me, that the films I saw with my father were more than just entertainment: they were how I connected with my dad on a personal level. The movie theater is the great equalizer because in the darkened theater we all come and participate in similar experiences and though we leave as strangers, for a brief time we are all related. I believe this is why, though my father and may have struggled to connect at all times, we found the theater as a place where we could connect (though we didn’t probably realize it at the time or at least I didn’t) and though my older brother may have had the sports field I had the movies. Briefly (because this is already probably too long winded) I would like to talk about several films and why they are important to me in my relationship with my father and why, whenever I see them, I will think of him. This is not an exhaustive list but rather three films which are most prominent in my mind right now and though at some point I would love to sit down and think more on the subject and rewrite this whole thing, at this point I just don’t have the time.
RETURN OF THE JEDI
Something great happened during my childhood: me, the biggest Star Wars nerd I know (not the biggest one period for sure…God that would be awful) , got to see the original trilogy in theaters. Of course George Lucas had went through and added sometimes pointless special effects to them but the important thing is that they were on the big screen and I was there. For the first one it was a family event as I recall: during January we all traveled to the theater and watched A NEW HOPE. Then a beautiful thing happened: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK was released the weekend of my birthday and all of my friends went to see it with me (I think that’s when it became my favorite). But by the time RETURN OF THE JEDI rolled around everyone was spent (except, of course, me) so only my father and I journeyed to the theater to watch the final installment in the STAR WARS saga.
I remember sitting there in awe of a movie I’d seen at least 30 times (yes, even at that point) and I remember my father sitting through it with me. I don’t know if he enjoyed it, I don’t know if he stayed awake, and I don’t know if he had even really wanted to go but for me, it was important that my father was there. And, though we hadn’t yet reached my rebellious stage, it was a rather fitting film. After all the entire original trilogy is about a father and a son. And while my dad isn’t Darth Vader (though sometimes I felt like it) and I’m not Luke Skywalker (I was always a Han Solo kid myself), I believe there is a deep struggle within each of us to prove ourselves to our fathers and when Luke refuses to make the same mistake his dad did (in my favorite part of any of the movies) he does that and saves both his father and himself (in a roundabout way). And though RETURN OF THE JEDI is now my least favorite of the original trilogy, it will always hold a special place in my heart.
SAVING PRIVATE RYAN
Something a lot of people don’t know about me is that I was somewhat of a history buff growing up. Now I’m not saying that I was fanatical but there were many an afternoon spent watching the History channel in my house instead of doing my homework. So when Steven Spielberg’s WWII epic came out (WWII being my favorite subject…mainly because that’s what they play on the History Channel) I was anxious to see it. The only problem is that I was young. Too young to see it on my own (I couldn’t even drive to the theater let alone buy a ticket), so after much discussion my parents decided to let me go see it and my father was to take me (I don’t know if my Mom could stomach it).
It was rough. Real, gritty, and violent. It was, I think, as close as we’ll ever get to recreating those events. Still within the grand scale of the European Theater of War there is a human story (I mean, it’s Spielberg). The story is not unlike other Steven Spielberg films thematically. In reality Tom Hanks is an army Captain sent to find a young Private who has lost all four of his brothers to the War of the Century but it doesn’t take to much imagination to see that Hanks is a surrogate father to Matt Damon’s Ryan and that his sacrifice in the end is that of a father for his son. Whenever I see this film I can only think of the first time I saw it in theaters and in the end I can only think of my father and know that he would do the same thing for me that Captain Miller does for Private Ryan.
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE
The last film is not one that I journeyed to the theater to see with my dad but rather one that we watch every year when Christmas rolls around. If my father loves any film, I believe it is this one. It is definitely his favorite holiday film (for though it transcends this genre it also fits perfectly into it) and, as a result, mine as well. Not only is the film a stirring tale of what one man can do against the evils of corporate greed and apathy, and how every person’s life matters but it is also the story of George Bailey trying to be a good husband, a good father, and a good man. It is the struggle that most of us guys are either dealing with or know we are going to have to deal with one day.
My father is George Bailey to me. Growing up and staying in the same town most of his life, he has done what my restless heart couldn’t do. He has made a life that is simple but full and he has shown me what a good man looks like. I don’t know the things my father struggles with (for a boy his father usually stays invincible) but I know that, like George Bailey, he could overcome it (of course not alone because we all need a guardian angel). My father loves my mother as fiercely as James Stewart loves Donna Reed and has always been an example to me of what love looks like. But mostly my father is a good dad. Though we are worlds apart I hope that I can be as good of a father as he has been to me. Through our arguments, struggles to understand one another, and sometimes-insurmountable frustration we have gained the relationship we have today and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Though he’s still not perfect, I wouldn’t want to call anyone else “Pops”. I look forward to continuing to growing up and learning more about my father, I look forward to one day asking his advice about a woman I love, or children that I am trying to raise, and I also look forward to a few more trips to the movie theater…
It’s hard growing up. Everyone knows it. Even us kids who grow up in a home Norman Rockwell would have been happy to paint have a hard time of it. If you’re a boy then this probably has something to do with your dad. Whether or not your father was hateful, loving, absent, present but distant, or just a normal dad there is some chip on our shoulders with our dads. This isn’t some retrospective on manhood and the need a boy has for his father’s affirmation or anything (there are plenty of good books on stuff like that) or rather a poetic take on an absent father because I don’t know anything about that. Rather this is simply my attempt to understand my relationship with my father and the way that I do that.
My father is not me. I am not my father. He’s a former football player, an electrician, a sports fan, a stern man, and can fix anything in the world. I, on the other hand, am none of these things. When it comes to similarities, I am much more like my mother in every respect. Perhaps this is why, in my growing up process, we clashed so often. Or perhaps it’s just the fact that I was a teenager. Regardless of why, my father and I certainly had our fair share of disagreements. This isn’t to say that I never fought with my mother (in fact most of the time he was simply playing the strong arm of the pair, not enacting his own punishment) but I think that when my dad and I fought it was harder because we’re so very different. For example, my father has a temper. A BIG temper. It never took too much troublemaking to set it off (and there was always a fair share of troublemaking to go around). I, on the other hand, don’t really react to situations in the same way. In fact when I become irritated I turn into something everyone loves: a smart aleck. I know it’s one of my worst faults and something that’s probably going to keep me on the couch a few nights (if and) when I get married. It’s even worse that this is the way I react to my father’s anger because it only serves to make him angrier. I think sometimes it’d be better if I were one of my brothers and could simply have a yelling contest and be done with it.
I was also a rebellious kid. When I say rebellious I don’t mean that I was doing drugs, drinking underage, smoking (anything), partying, or anything like that. In fact I was in church every time I got the chance (some days I went even when my family slept in) and constantly on youth trips and hanging out with my youth minister. This isn’t to say that my rebellion was excusable but rather just to more accurately define it. I got into punk rock in high school thanks to two older influences (both of whom I still count as close friends). When I say punk rock I mean pop punk and when I say pop punk I mean Blink-182, Green Day, and all others to a lesser extent. My parents didn’t understand my taste in music and didn’t agree with what it stood for. The problem is that they tried to stop it and when you’re listening to punk, you’re already mad enough at authority that when your parents try and make you stop listening to it….it just gets bad fast. So there were many long nights of hard fights, broken CDs, snide comments, loud yelling, and that aching feeling that all teenagers get: “they just don’t understand.”
Still even through this time there are many good memories I have withy my pops and a lot of them take place in a movie theater. First of all you should know that my Dad is not a movie guy. At least not a movie guy like I am. When it comes to movies he’s just an average person. He watches them, he enjoys them, and there are some he enjoys more than others but that’s pretty much where it ends. Of course with me it’s always been more than that. For me, the cinema has been an escape, a place of solace, a place of belonging, the great educator, the good friend, and how I understand the world around me. So I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that the movies are also how I understand my dad. That the trips to the theater and the nights around the family TV were so important to me, that the films I saw with my father were more than just entertainment: they were how I connected with my dad on a personal level. The movie theater is the great equalizer because in the darkened theater we all come and participate in similar experiences and though we leave as strangers, for a brief time we are all related. I believe this is why, though my father and may have struggled to connect at all times, we found the theater as a place where we could connect (though we didn’t probably realize it at the time or at least I didn’t) and though my older brother may have had the sports field I had the movies. Briefly (because this is already probably too long winded) I would like to talk about several films and why they are important to me in my relationship with my father and why, whenever I see them, I will think of him. This is not an exhaustive list but rather three films which are most prominent in my mind right now and though at some point I would love to sit down and think more on the subject and rewrite this whole thing, at this point I just don’t have the time.
RETURN OF THE JEDI
Something great happened during my childhood: me, the biggest Star Wars nerd I know (not the biggest one period for sure…God that would be awful) , got to see the original trilogy in theaters. Of course George Lucas had went through and added sometimes pointless special effects to them but the important thing is that they were on the big screen and I was there. For the first one it was a family event as I recall: during January we all traveled to the theater and watched A NEW HOPE. Then a beautiful thing happened: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK was released the weekend of my birthday and all of my friends went to see it with me (I think that’s when it became my favorite). But by the time RETURN OF THE JEDI rolled around everyone was spent (except, of course, me) so only my father and I journeyed to the theater to watch the final installment in the STAR WARS saga.
I remember sitting there in awe of a movie I’d seen at least 30 times (yes, even at that point) and I remember my father sitting through it with me. I don’t know if he enjoyed it, I don’t know if he stayed awake, and I don’t know if he had even really wanted to go but for me, it was important that my father was there. And, though we hadn’t yet reached my rebellious stage, it was a rather fitting film. After all the entire original trilogy is about a father and a son. And while my dad isn’t Darth Vader (though sometimes I felt like it) and I’m not Luke Skywalker (I was always a Han Solo kid myself), I believe there is a deep struggle within each of us to prove ourselves to our fathers and when Luke refuses to make the same mistake his dad did (in my favorite part of any of the movies) he does that and saves both his father and himself (in a roundabout way). And though RETURN OF THE JEDI is now my least favorite of the original trilogy, it will always hold a special place in my heart.
SAVING PRIVATE RYAN
Something a lot of people don’t know about me is that I was somewhat of a history buff growing up. Now I’m not saying that I was fanatical but there were many an afternoon spent watching the History channel in my house instead of doing my homework. So when Steven Spielberg’s WWII epic came out (WWII being my favorite subject…mainly because that’s what they play on the History Channel) I was anxious to see it. The only problem is that I was young. Too young to see it on my own (I couldn’t even drive to the theater let alone buy a ticket), so after much discussion my parents decided to let me go see it and my father was to take me (I don’t know if my Mom could stomach it).
It was rough. Real, gritty, and violent. It was, I think, as close as we’ll ever get to recreating those events. Still within the grand scale of the European Theater of War there is a human story (I mean, it’s Spielberg). The story is not unlike other Steven Spielberg films thematically. In reality Tom Hanks is an army Captain sent to find a young Private who has lost all four of his brothers to the War of the Century but it doesn’t take to much imagination to see that Hanks is a surrogate father to Matt Damon’s Ryan and that his sacrifice in the end is that of a father for his son. Whenever I see this film I can only think of the first time I saw it in theaters and in the end I can only think of my father and know that he would do the same thing for me that Captain Miller does for Private Ryan.
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE
The last film is not one that I journeyed to the theater to see with my dad but rather one that we watch every year when Christmas rolls around. If my father loves any film, I believe it is this one. It is definitely his favorite holiday film (for though it transcends this genre it also fits perfectly into it) and, as a result, mine as well. Not only is the film a stirring tale of what one man can do against the evils of corporate greed and apathy, and how every person’s life matters but it is also the story of George Bailey trying to be a good husband, a good father, and a good man. It is the struggle that most of us guys are either dealing with or know we are going to have to deal with one day.
My father is George Bailey to me. Growing up and staying in the same town most of his life, he has done what my restless heart couldn’t do. He has made a life that is simple but full and he has shown me what a good man looks like. I don’t know the things my father struggles with (for a boy his father usually stays invincible) but I know that, like George Bailey, he could overcome it (of course not alone because we all need a guardian angel). My father loves my mother as fiercely as James Stewart loves Donna Reed and has always been an example to me of what love looks like. But mostly my father is a good dad. Though we are worlds apart I hope that I can be as good of a father as he has been to me. Through our arguments, struggles to understand one another, and sometimes-insurmountable frustration we have gained the relationship we have today and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Though he’s still not perfect, I wouldn’t want to call anyone else “Pops”. I look forward to continuing to growing up and learning more about my father, I look forward to one day asking his advice about a woman I love, or children that I am trying to raise, and I also look forward to a few more trips to the movie theater…
1 comment:
This is really random, but I love that you linked It's a Wonderful Life with your father. That movie reminds me so much of my dad also, and my family watches that movie every Christmas Eve on VHS. I cry everytime the town brings the money to help out George. Love it.
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