Happy Day of Fathers

My wife, my son, and I went to see Incredibles 2 a couple of days ago. I was primed to be all on board with the themes of family, appreciation for our connubial counterparts, and our children living up to responsibility. It was all there, and it was good. But, what I wasn’t quite ready for was the emotional power of a movie trailer and a short film before the movie.

We don’t go to the movies that often, so maybe it was the majesty of being in a theater that had me ready to be moved by whatever was projected on the big screen, but damn if that Christopher Robin preview didn’t have me in tears. All grown up with a job, a family, and a stuffy air of responsibility that leaves little room for play and imagination? Fuck that! Not on Winnie the Pooh’s watch!

My son watched the tears welling in my and my wife’s faces. We fought most of them back, but he knew. Oh, he knew. The heart strings weren’t done being manipulated by deft, film maker hands, though. There was a Pixar short that might not get too much repeat watch time at home but was so good. The short film, Bao, used metaphor to explain the difficulty of raising, protecting, and allowing the natural process of nest leaving of our kids. The dad is not present through most of the story, but he shows up at the end with a sweet act of heart in mending the fence between his wife and son. None of the themes were wasted on me.

This little vignette brought the waterworks. My son kept looking back and forth between me and my wife like he just noticed our matching Gucci Mane ice cream face tattoos. I could have left the theater then and felt all the catharsis I needed from a movie. It stuck in my mind in a perfect Father’s Day message that rivaled any heavy-handed spirit of Christmas pandering that we eat up around the holiday season.

To all my fellow dads, to you I say be as silly as you want to be, be content in your need for quiet, be patient with yourself as you work through fatherhood and you-hood, and be gentle with yourself while you decipher the parts of your preceding generation of dads. Some parts will work; some won’t. Hell, I really feel for my dad’s generation having to live up to their dads’ generation that was called the impossible-to-beat “Greatest Generation.” I’m grateful for my Gen X blessing and curse of our receptivity to messages delivered via a screen. Keep the good vibes coming!

Thank you for your unique dad-ness!

Happy Father’s Day!

Otto Scungy

A presentation for tired dads

“I want my cake!”

This clip makes me want to cry. This is my favorite movie dad!

https://youtu.be/WsdqKdXpUUI

Together Forever by Foxy Shazam

Have a good day!

Otto Scungy

Happy Father’s Day

A toast to you, dads and dad figures. This comes the day after Father’s Day by design. I respect your day of dad-ness and all the enjoyment you deserve. In fact, you deserve more than one day, but let’s take the day with gratitude. You do not always display the greatness that lies within, but it is there, waiting for an opportunity to shine to the world.

You have hidden strength that you hone in secret, crushing full garbage to more compact, manageable garbage. That shows thrift, by the way.

Should a challenger come to test your dexterity, you can draw on your reserves, comb in nimble fingers, to deftly give a show of Track and Field arcade tapping. Those are your quarters on top. You always have next!

Some may challenge your memory, citing omitted grocery store items and forgotten birthdays. Ha! Can those doubters recall Dead Ted, Potty Scotty, Windy Winston or Barfin’ Barbara? You can pull Garbage Pail Kids’ names with no effort, and what have they? 

Yes, you dads of perfectly ripe vintage don’t just remember when this was all just fields, but you also remember trekking through that field to rent The Three Amigos from The Movie Shack three times that one summer.

Fly your dad banner and relax, Dads. I will honor you even after that special day.

 

Here’s to you, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day!

Otto Scungy

 

Track & Field

 

The Garbage Pail Kids Movie

 

The Three Amigos