June 15th is Father’s Day. I thought I would get a head start on the topic since I happen to be a father, had a great father of my own, sired one who, in turn, sired one, and not to be outdone, a daughter who managed to produced one as well. Ergo, I know a bit about the subject of fathers.
First off, fathers are not anything like the ones you see portrayed in television commercials, which leads me to believe that all the airheads producing those ads as well as the clients running them on the air had a different kind of father than did I.
The fathers I see in the ads are always inept bumblers who embarrass their children, are patiently set straight by a forbearing wife and are a source of amusement by their neighbors.
Although if you look closely, the family seems to live in a very nice house and everyone looks to be well-dressed, so stupid old dad must make a fairly decent living or else he married into money, which is pretty smart as well.
Upon further reflection, it is more likely that fathers are the only group you can make fun of these days without incurring the wrath of the ACLU and other assorted special interest groups. Try making a member of the LGBTQ community look like a blithering idiot and see what happens.
Perhaps I am being a bit hypersensitive on the subject of fathers because I know what real ones are like. I was fortunate to have had a real one of my own.
Ironically, he would not have checked many of the boxes of what constitutes the ideal father. A railroad man, he spent much of his almost-50 year career working at night. I remember very few holidays when he was at home. We didn’t spend time playing ball. We never went camping or fishing.
He went to work at the age of 16 and in almost a half-century, which I once calculated at 18,000-plus days, he missed a grand total of 3 weeks – 21 days – due to an emergency appendectomy, which today would probably be an out-patient procedure and he no doubt would have left the doctor’s office and headed straight to work.
He was not my pal. He was my father. A no-nonsense father. We didn’t debate the rules of the house. He made them. My brother and I followed them. Period. He never spanked us. He didn’t have to. His look was enough.
My dad was not a touchy-feely guy. We never hugged. He never told me he loved me. That wasn’t his style. But I knew he loved me and he knew I loved him. Words were unnecessary.
He remains today the most influential person in my life. Not bad for a guy who never got past the 7th Grade and proved that formal education alone doesn’t make you wise. Even today, I quote the lessons I learned from him growing up. I have a feeling my kids quote him to their kids.
Maybe this is why I despair at the stereotypes I see on television doing inane stuff. What kind of role models are they? We have a fatherhood problem in this country and it’s nothing to laugh about.
According to the U.S. Census Bureau, almost 18 million children in the U.S., or nearly 1 in 4, live without a biological father, stepfather, or adoptive father in the home. That’s enough children to fill New York City twice or Los Angeles four times over.
Statistics from the National Center For Fathering say that 85% of youths in prison come from fatherless homes. Sixty percent of youth suicides are from fatherless homes. Seventy-one percent of high school dropouts are from fatherless homes. Where have all the fathers gone?
To this Neanderthal, I would say much of the reason is the lack of commitment on the part of either the momma or the daddy. Family stability is eroding. The number of marriages in the country has declined, leading to more children being born to unmarried parents. Divorce rates have risen, contributing to the increase in single-parent households. According to the Annie E. Casey Foundation, 39% of families in Georgia are single-parent households.
Being a good father is hard work and I have not always done it well. But I am aware that it is an awesome responsibility. It is also a privilege. Happy Father’s Day to all of you who have made the effort.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough at dick@dickyarbrough.com or at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Georgia 31139
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