Let's just jump right into it. I can guarantee, guarantee!!, that if I call my dad at any point, he will begin a tale, step by step, of his latest golf round. My dad will begin with how, at the beginning of the week, shockingly, he was thinking about playing golf.
He will then recall how he initially asked one guy to play with him, but that friend could not make it. So, then my dad called what’s-his-name, but he also could not play. Then my dad called his other friend, who funnily enough, just started playing golf and just got some new clubs two weeks ago! Anyway, this friend could go! So he and this friend, the third friend mind you, went to golf and they show up, check in, and the check in guy was this really nice guy who was able to get them out to start playing 15 minutes early. Freaking awesome right!?
At this point in the story, I will ask my dad which golf course he decided to play, and he will say, oh, Tilden, as though he said it already. (To be fair, I should know, because it is only one of two options, Tilden, or Franklin Canyon).
So, continuing on. On the first hole, my dad hit a lousy tee shot, then plunked it in the bunk-sauce (lingo he picked up from me and my friends for bunker), then almost got up and down, but just missed the putt. On hole two, after a pretty good tee shot, he crushed a 6-iron to the front of the green, easy two putt, made par. His friend had a terrible drive, but recovered a bit, but still made bogey after not a great chip. On the third hole…
The man will summarize all 18 holes if he is not stopped!! I used to get frustrated. I would think (or sometimes say), “Nobody cares dad!!” Yeah, I was a bit mean. But, I have decided, as of now, that I love these tales about the missed 5 ft putts for birdie, the great chip-in on hole 9, or the second shot that was right on the money at that difficult uphill par 3 at Franklin.
As I slowly mature, I realize that life would be boring if we only got excited about the big events in life. And who other than family loves us enough to celebrate the super small, daily wins like finding 5, 5! perfectly ripe avocados at Trader Joes. I think these daily wins are really the only things worth talking about. I know I will be super excited for my dad when something huge in his life happens, such as when he retires (because somehow he’ll play even more golf!). But I will be just as excited for him when he tells me about when he pulled out driver on hole 7 at Tilden and hit a great drive, with a draw, that rolled up to the green.
My dad and I are so similar. I mean look at me, prattling away in this email each week about my life. Talking talking talking like any good Childers should. We have similar ambition, speech, memory (poor), taste (also poor), and values. We are both independent and obsess over our hobbies. Neither of us likes to disrupt our routine. For my dad, nothing outside of Warriors tickets will shake up his daily grind: teach, salad, grade papers, golf, read, vegan food tirade, green tea, Bernie Sanders tirade, vegetable ‘smoothie’, PBS NewsHour, The Voice, play with the cats, read, sleep.
Love you dad.
This week in my sketch writing class, we were tasked to write nonstop for twenty minutes about a relationship. I started writing about my dad. I wrote about our ups and downs. About our similarities and our differences. What I wanted from him. What I was like as a son. I wrote about how much my dad loves my mom. I wrote about the time my dad thought buying my mom a mechanical foot massager for Christmas was a good idea and the crestfallen look on my mom's face upon seeing that her biggest present under the tree, was a mechanical foot massager...
The exercise brought up some deep stuff. I had no idea I had that much to write. But I am so grateful for you dad. And I am excited to get on the phone with you tonight to hear the latest golfing adventure.
I love you all. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving! My second published article is below and on business-outsider.com. If you 'like' it on Facebook and it goes viral and I become a big shot, well then, thank you. Beers on me. For context, the subtext of the article (i.e. like what I am trying to make fun of through satire) is that corporate email jargon is pointless small talk and people don’t mean what they say in most business emails. It's just words designed for max clicks or a certain response.
