Father's Day and Other Summer Delights

 

Dads and June

Yes, I know, Dear Leader offering another light hearted post? Just remember, this is an election year and there will be plenty of time for crappy serious stuff so don't get overly giddy.

Schools out - No more pencils, No more books
No more teacher's dirty looks!*

If May is the prelude what then is June? Flag Day, Juneteenth, Father's Day and the Summer Solstice. And just the beginning of summer.

Now I know what you’re thinking. You are expecting either my usual whining about how little recognition we fathers get or how the solstice is the end of summer and beginning of our slippery slope to winter. While both are true, I am going to break out of my predictable rut to bring sunshine and warm breezes to you.  I'm going to write about all the positive things that June and summer bring. Or at least try. Let us start with this.

June is the gateway to the full monty * of a Minnesota summer. As a counter to the sadness of owning the solstice, June has the honor of the longest days of the year (in the northern hemisphere.) With that, you must admit that June carries a sense of great possibilities that other months don’t. June, and Summer in general, to me is the like the dawn after a long. restless night. By that I mean that wakeful thoughts at night often drift into the darker corners of our mind (it’s not just me, is it?) but which are thankfully - or usually - chased away by that silver glow in the eastern sky. In the same way, winter and its short days, long nights and maddening cold often brings out the worst in us. Then, like day break, summer chases away all those gloomy feelings and offers a magical optimism; both make everything look better.

Mrs Dear Leader's red phase

Of course, then there are the flowers and lush greenery (really lush and really green this year during our onging monsoon season.) Speaking of flowers. Like our ancient ancestors, we all live for the return of the sun and the seasonal routines it brings. Perhaps no one is more driven than avid gardeners like Mrs Dear Leader. Long before Mother’s Day she and other gardeners, like prairie dogs, start poking their heads up looking for ideas for their flower beds. Then, when it is safe to plant - which is hopefully before the 4^th of July - they invade Bachman’s and every other flower store like sailors making port after 6 months at sea (and with a very similar enthusiasm.) 

Now, in June, when we begin to see the rewards of their labors we are reminded why we live in Minnesota. (And winter is officially forgotten.)

June can be a little stormy (weather, not the woman) but hasn’t yet assumed the sauna-like qualities of July and August. Then there are all the art fairs and festivals – sorry, already missed Rhubarb Days but coming soon are Judy Garland Days, Potato Days and Kolacky Days – that require only tank tops and flip flops to enjoy rather than a parka and mukluks. And, of course, farmers markets on every corner,  camping trips and boat rides and Twins games. (Okay, fine, and soccer for you scarf-wearing, horn-blowing Euro-weirdos.)

Perhaps best of all is the feeling that time really does slow down. On a June day there is time to play golf, take a bath, sit outside and have a cocktail on the patio with a neighbor - and Prudie - and still have golden light in the west. The downside is going to bed with it still light out.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the two main events of June.

Hey, Og, sun appear in a different place - get ready for winter!

There is the solstice. Ah, the summer solstice. Sorry, I still can’t think of anything good about it. Unlike the winter solstice, which besides signaling the beginning of the end of winter has the panache of having a whole bunch of religions and festivals hopping on its celestial bandwagon. Poor summer is what, the maître d’ to the 4^th July? Whoopee.

Then, of course, there is dad's day.

Philosophically, I am not incorrect in my self-deprecating humor about Father's Day. Compared to Mother's Day, ours is basically . . . an average Tuesday. And that’s okay. Like the male peacock (or pretty much the male of every other species) we get to strut around every day in our manly maleness and pretend to be the grand fromage.* Those few of us with at least a semblance of self-awareness know and understand, however, that the females of our species are the ones that grease the wheels of a civilized society: don’t eat with your hands, take your hat off indoors, be good to your brother/sister and try not to be an asshole. (Clearly with mixed results given how many of us there are.) All the while often holding down a full-time job. They do a thousand other things I don’t even understand but I shall stand by (okay, stood by) nod approvingly at her efforts - and keep my mouth shut.

Oh yeah, and thanks for the card.

Speaking of Father's Day . . .

Marvelous Marv and his four boys: Moe, Larry, Curly & Shemp *
RIP Pop            

The real upside of these long days, however, is all the advantages for outdoor activities the most important of which are late day tee times. 

Yes, I have left for last the true point of this post. 

In fact, nothing personifies our relationship to summer like the ancient game of golf - despite what Mrs Dear Leader likes to say, (often, inexplicably, with a terse look) “Must everything come back to golf?” Well of course it does because everything does. Come back to golf I mean.

 

In great art there is the Venus de Milo*, the Sistine Chapel* - and the Preserve golf course in Brainerd

Golf represents all of life’s verities in one simple game: joy when a birdie putt drops; anguish when a perfectly struck ball hits a tree and drops into the lake; pride when a shot is executed exactly as you planned; humility when you duff a shot off the first tee with lots of witnesses. (Uh, never mind the club-throwing anger when you make a 3-putt bogey.) 

Speaking of humility, I play a lot of golf alone (Yeah I know, perhaps with good reason) so I often get paired up with strangers. In hundreds of rounds I’ve only met one jerk - who I encouraged to continue on by on himself. My theory is that golf is such a humbling game that very few a-holes can play it. Anway it also teaches perseverance. In addition, it creates lifelong friendships forged in the brotherhood of playing an impossibly difficult game while knowing there is no chance of mastering it. Also important, it’s a game that you can drink while doing. (Of course, there are very few games that guys haven’t figured out a way to drink while doing.)

Perhaps best of all, on a beautiful June day - maybe even Fathers Day – you can play until at 9:00 at night when the shadows grow long and the crickets call, then repair to the club patio for a final cocktail and to settle bets. Ah, a true midsummers night dream! * 

There is a lot to be said for June.  (Well at least until the solstice.)

You know, perhaps the world isn't going to end just yet.

To all you handsome, sensitive, attentive dads (and also you guys like Dear Leader) enjoy your moment in the sun - you deserve it! 

Music for everyone who has lost their dad - or even those who haven't

Dance with my Father     Luther Vandros

On a happier note, a great version of the greatest summer song ever

Summer Breeze     Isley Bros

* What's with the asterisks? In true Dear Leader form, they are pointless cultural references - how many do you get?