Mick said it best with the line: “What a drag it is getting old.” And older I AM getting — as I seem to have misplaced two postings (or simply dreamed that I had written them) – and this here OP-ED will have to go into the October 19th space. I apologize to publisher, Arash (who is nearly flawless in all things), for deigning to suggest that he had somehow “dropped the ball.” I searched our 3 home computers for the two articles I could have sworn I had written – and I, I… must have dreamed them…row, row, row your boat – gently down a stream — merrily, merrily, merrily…
Speaking of getting old – Folks who know me know that I have 3 sons. These same folks know that I have been divorced twice as well. I can’t do marriage – and, apparently, I can’t do parenting very well: as my 3 sons rarely acknowledge my existence and my attempts to make their lives easier than mine was.
That’s why I was going to entitle this particular essay, “Curtis,” after a really cool young man who was my student back in ’91-’92. Curtis really looked out for me, protecting me from all possible attacks on my person – and though I never did anything of harm to anyone, Curtis would advise me of anything I said or did that might be taken the wrong way by the-powers-that-were.
I greatly appreciated Curtis, whose father had apparently ditched the family, and became a distant – rather inconsistent, presence in Curtis’s life. I have no doubt that I became Curtis’s surrogate father, and for this, I shall be eternally grateful! He was a very good kid. He could have been a football star I bet! He could churn out school work when he had to, and, he just wanted the world (and people) to be “balanced.”
I am happy to count Curtis as a Son for a short period of time (we haven’t talked for 16-years-or so). I hope all goes well for him…which brings me to my Bad Boyz of the here-and-now at wunnerful ol’ Camp Gonzalez: Companion to the “gridiron gang” crew. Now that I’ve given X #2 the reins of Tyler and Austen – I find myself with more parenting time and patience for these ladz, who, by-and-large, never had fathers interested in their lives. The fact that I now have time and patience for them (I’m not running off to do stuff for my own sons) – has these disadvantaged young ladz churning our more schoolwork than I can keep up with, and, many of them showing those unique gifts we all have as human beings.
Son Nick once told Son Tyler that he (Nick) lives vicariously through Tyler – hooking into the Dad (ME) that he never had – which sounded very cool at-the-time – but I have since realized that my-own-flesh-and-blood really doesn’t have much time for me.
But the Sons of other Fathers, whom I have dealt with for the past 30 years – they got time for me! These guyz tell me of their hopes, fears, dreams and desires – something my own Sons are unable to share: I hope to figure out why…before I die.