So, here 'tis: Father's Day Sweets for my dad, Jim Yates. But the rest of you can feel free to look, too. :)
Hey, Dad, remember that time the neighbor's little boy snuck in to our house, grabbed your guitar, and dragged it down the sidewalk? Ah, good times.
Also, I don't think your guitar looked quite this cool:
Submitted by Kathy H. and made by her sister, Carol V.And remember how you'd take me for rides on your motorcycle? The turns always scared me, but I loved having my very own kid-sized helmet, and the thrill of climbing into the seat behind you, hanging on for dear life, and thinking maybe my parents weren't quite so embarrassing, after all.
Although, come to think of it, your motorcycle wasn't this cool, either:
Submitted by Tifany D., made by Charm City Cakes It's possible you've blocked this from memory, but you really did teach me to drive. In our ancient green Toyota pickup, no less, with a floor stick shift.
It took me years to figure out what you did for a living. All I knew was you worked at a big, intimidating office/factory and you wore a suit every day. (Btw, you're, uh, some kind of project manager/engineer type, right?) I still remember the first time you asked me if your tie went with your shirt; it made me feel so important, that you'd ask for my opinion. Actually, I still feel that way, any time you ask.
And for the record: that tie + that shirt = perfect.
Remember when I came home crying because all the kids were making flashy, expensive models for a school project, and I didn't have anything flashy OR expensive? You sat me down and asked me what I'd like to do. Then we went to Skycraft Surplus (remember that?). In the end, I couldn't have been more proud: my project board's little Styrofoam car had real working headlights!
To this day, I clearly remember "The Sociological Impact of the Lightbulb" - because my Dad helped me build it.
You were forever doing home projects, and I loved weekends when you'd ask, "Shorty, want to go to the Home o' de Pot?"
By justcakinmytimeWe'd pile into our old green pickup, and you'd sing "Greasy Grimey Gopher Guts" and "On Top of Old Smokey" along the way. Thanks to you I still love the smell of sawdust and grease that hits me every time I walk into our local Home Depot - and today I rock my own tool belt.
One night I peeked into the living room to see what you and Mom were laughing about, and there on the TV was a curly-headed man in a long scarf bouncing into a blue police box.
Soon we were all watching together, just like we watched Star Trek and Night Court and Monty Python together. The next year you brought us to my very first convention - a Doctor Who convention.
(I like to think my geeky lineage came full circle when John and I brought you and Mom to Dragon*Con last year - thus starting a yearly tradition, perhaps?)
(I like to think my geeky lineage came full circle when John and I brought you and Mom to Dragon*Con last year - thus starting a yearly tradition, perhaps?)
When we were little, you seemed to take sadistic glee in waking Ben and me with loud jazz music, water, or banging suddenly on our bedroom doors - but I'll never forget the time you woke us with "Who wants to go to Disney World?!"
Sub'd by Stacey R., made by nice icingYou never set limits on my future, Dad. When I wrote lousy poetry, you submitted your favorite to a national magazine - and you were more disappointed than I was when it wasn't printed. When I thought I wanted to be a professional clown, you got brochures for Ringling College. When I first introduced you to John, you asked if we'd set a date yet.
So thanks, Dad. Happy Father's Day. You taught me to pursue my dreams, marry only for love, and to always finish my Brussels sprouts.
Hey, two out of three ain't bad, right?
Hey, two out of three ain't bad, right?
(Oh, and see you at Dragon*Con.)
Happy Father's Day to the rest of you dads out there, too! May all your children grow up to make you proud - when they're not publicly embarrassing you on the Internet, of course.
