What Dads Are For

        

      I found the perfect Father’s Day present. It’s a book called What Dads Are For, which features about a sentence per page with sappy lines about the importance of a dad. Things like, “to teach me how to be honest in the face of hardship,” but sorely missing the more realistic reasons such as, “to put money in my checking account.”

     If I get this for my dad, he will cry and I will win. This was it, a way out. I could buy this for him and call it a day. But I decided not to take the easy way out, I’m almost 20 years old and I should be capable of buying my dad a more meaningful, personalized Father’s Day gift. This book is the type of thing a mom would give to her husband saying it was from their 2-year-old child. I needed something that would pack the same emotional punch as What Dads Are For while also being something personal.

      A good present to get my dad would be to tell him what I plan on doing with my life and how I’ll support myself. Unfortunately for both of us, this will not be a possibility. Equally unfortunate is that since I haven’t gotten my paycheck yet, I will be using his own money to buy his present.

    My first stop on the gift quest was Barnes and Noble, not so much because my dad reads books but because I needed some coffee, and in my town the Barnes and Noble is the closest place to get Starbucks. It was at the “Gifts for Dad” setup that I first set eyes on What Dads Are For and quickly decided to continue searching.

   Buying my dad something from a bookstore is a bit of a joke. As I was leaving the house to go shopping for him, he was on the computer typing something and asked me how to spell “upon.”

  “U-P-O-N,” I said.

   “I can’t spell for shit.”

    It’s pretty amazing that I can right a sentence, let alone a whole essay. And just when I thought I was done, he asked how to spell “through.” Maybe I should get him a dictionary. I wonder if he knows how to spell dictionary...

      The only book my dad has read in the past 10 years is one which had an entire chapter written about him. If I was going to get him a book, I had a tough act to follow. I figured I’d try to find something about the New York commodities exchange since that’s the only thing he’d even attempt to read about. But most of the books on finance looked a bit too intellectual for my dad. I needed to find something with more pictures and big glossy pages.

     I went over to the bargain section and my options were limited to The Joy of Socks, a Nelson Mandela biography, a reader’s guide to the bible, and crock-pot cookbooks. He likes socks a lot, but not enough to read a book about them. And sadly we do not own a crock-pot.

    I made my way over to the fiction section and laughed at the idea of my dad reading Fifty Shades of Grey. I saw something called The Last Trade and read the description. It was a thriller about a guy who works on Wall Street and gets involved in a conspiracy, which winds up killing his best friend. This would not be suitable. NCIS gives my dad nightmares, so I’m pretty sure this novel would give my dad posttraumatic stress disorder.

     Something about cars would be ideal. I came home this weekend for the first time in a few weeks and the first thing my dad did was tell me about a trophy he won for his 1972 Javelin AMX at a car show. He won the prestigious “Cruisin’ with the Movin’ On Cruisers Best in Show 2012” award. The award itself is gold and plastic and reminiscent of the ones 6-year-old soccer players get for showing up to practice. My dad is also holder of an eBay Yellow Star Achievement award. So yeah, that pretty much makes my dad better than your dad.

      But, unfortunately, none of the car books looked any good. I decided to leave Barnes and Noble empty handed. I thought about what else I could get him. Clothes were out of the question, since that’s what I always get him for Christmas. I know he always needs more socks, but a pair of socks is even less personal than What Dads Are For.

    When I was younger, this was a lot easier. I could just buy the latest season of The West Wing on DVD and make a card out of construction paper. But The West Wing ended a long time ago and I’m too old to be making cards. The strength of those cards, though, was what I would write inside about how much he meant to me. So dad, since I couldn’t find anything else, this essay is your Father’s Day present. It’s personalized and all about you and me and I think that makes it pretty special. But if you disagree, it’s not too late for me to run out and get a copy of What Dads Are For.

   

Also, here's a silly picture of my dad from the 80s: