In a world where everything is changing quickly, there is a unified cry among society for strength. There is an obvious omittance of stoic-minded leadership and wisdom. The glaring absence of righteous aggression, responsibility, courage, and the ever-assertive thirst for intrinsic independence to place a mark on their spot in the world. These things tend to be viewed as uncommon superpowers.
As far as I'm concerned, my Dad is as close to Superman as I'll ever meet.
He's one of those guys that, if I were not his son, I'd definitely want to be his friend. Maybe you know someone like him. If you do, you already understand the high-value someone like him brings to life.
Frequently the tallest man in the room, my dad has stood as a pillar of strength my whole life. In a friend group, he is the silent type, with the uncanny ability to crack the wittiest remark at the perfect time whilst exerting minimal effort at all. I don't mind admitting it: Dad is funnier than me and always will be.
My Dad is every bit Texan as could be. He still has the same pet turtle he rescued from his home state, he makes the most perfect steak you'll ever taste, and he is scared of neither man nor beast. He taught me to eat pralines as a breakfast item, and to fish using a bamboo cane pole. He makes shrimp and grits so good that it would make Willie Nelson cry. In a good way.
My Dad is a natural born athlete. He made it to 6 feet tall before he left his teen years and aced every sport he tried. He taught me at a young age that "You never play for fun, you play to WIN". I've been a wimp most of my childhood so he taught me to lift weights and take Jay Robb Whey Protein, which I know this sounds like an ad, but I really do take it every day. You should too, it's good for you.
Its hard to imagine anyone cooler than my Dad. I recall once he stared down two drunk hobos who had encroached upon his family's personal space one night in downtown Nashville. My Dad neither flinched, nor raised his voice, but as they got closer (and seemingly more nefarious), all Dad had to do was look them in the eye and give them a gentle "Take a hike, boys." Those two guys probably had to change their underwear that night--I've never seen anyone so intimidated.
My Dad finished college later than most, with little baby children and a wife at home. He studied to get his teaching credentials and became a substitute teacher. He has this way with kids that's truly special. When I was a little tyke, we used to have a party trick where he would grab me by my ears and lift me off the ground. To achieve this illusion, I had to hold on to his forearms as he held on to my ears so in effect he was just relying on me hanging on, lifting me with ease, complete with theatrical shaking and flailing for effect. Not only was it fun for both of us, it made everyone laugh--it was a show stopper every time, and once the other kids learned how we did it, they all wanted to be lifted up by their ears too!
My earliest memory of Dad goes back to 1997: I was sitting on the front step of our house, drinking water from a yellow sippy cup. Dad was just an arm's length away, working in the yard. The smell of freshly churned dirt and misty lawn sprinklers imprinted so deeply upon me, that I still smile every time I catch the scent again.
Today, Dad lives a charmed life of retirement. He tends to his lawn, his garden, his fruit trees, his bird feeders, and turtles. He still flirts with my Mom, his wife of 34 years, and still hangs out with his kids. He reads local news, has his favorite coffee spot in town, and never passes up a chance to go fishing. He still works out, and still puts peanuts in his Coke. He's the kind of man I sometimes think I'll never live up to. He has a discipline and work ethic that I aspire to.
Without a doubt, if everyone had a Dad like him, this world wouldn't have a problem in sight. I'm sure glad to know him.
And if you couldn't tell by now, I'm really quite proud of him.