GOING FISHIN

WHAT IS A FATHER? I am one of a troupe of this world's populations that can truly say "that is an abstract term" for cause being I have never truly had one. Oh, sure there have been stand-ins. There have been those "big brothers" claimed by me or by themselves to be an "older male figure" to replace an older brother... also an image missing in my life. I have to say, in my own defense, that many people are at loss for that older protective brother or father/dad figure because of the hazardous role it presents to that individual's life. They can be killed or imprisoned for the wrongful act as family defenders. Family defenders are cut down as being "defiant" "assaultive" "vicious" "crazed "malicious" and "militant" if seen or heard to be in the act of defending those he loves and purportedly selflessly rescues from harm's way. Those vouching for my accord have usually been reduced to usurers of snipe-worthy conversation including defense by my father-in-law... grandfather of my first and only children.

I applaud them in that stance and point to those on the second level of a stepfather. My children had that going for them. Stand-in fathers can be a hero to a child thrown away by his or her blood father; and where that event fails, an uncle can remedy that failed gap. And to that end,

A FISHING TRIP (a total father's day event)

"Okay, so your stepdad and uncle are planning a trip weekend ahead for us together with your cousins. They're taking us fishing for FATHER'S DAY!" The line I fed to the kids that morning was something of a challenge. Our normal weekends were spent visiting his mom and siblings after a day at the zoo, hiking, biking, or identifying edible plants at Plum Creek... the local nature preserve. This last effort was the "in case a tragedy occurred or in the event that we became a "bummed out" family now or near the end of life." On occasion, there was a threat to travel 300 miles to meet the rest of my family, a threat which was never fulfilled. He, the stepfather, panicked every time. On occasion, there was a visit to the beach with the kid's uncle and his wife and his three kids. There hadn't been another of those episodes since we arrived at the beach in two carloads and everyone stripped down to swimsuits except me... by his order. He freaked over the issue and broke into an argument with the kids, their uncle, and the uncle's wife over "why" I could not wear a swimsuit in public on a hot sandy beach in Chicago. As they all enjoyed the atmosphere, I sat at the beach mulling over the "why" and "what" of his sudden paranoia until the picnic outing was over. We were always with the others, it was nothing new except the refusal for me to join in on the fun.

This promotional excursion to go fishing in the Mississippi River was something new, so... the guys packed the trunk of the car with a filled cooler of drinks, snacks, and food. They loaded the fishing poles given each of them from the prior year and loaded worms and crickets as bait. My fly fishing pole and the five basic poles for the kids. Uncle's wife had to work that day and did not load in with us.

It was their day.

Everyone loaded up by their order and map in one father's hand... driver's wheel in the other, and we were gone! The car seemed to have roamed forever, following the capable transportation planning of fathers "in charge." Hours passed and one or two toilet stops and refueling before they pulled off the highway for a "shortcut" ... according to the routes displayed on the state map. I was a rider with men in control. We were in the "men's world."

After a distance of miles along a county road, the driver turned off the pavement onto a gravel outlet which became a dirt road, then a grassed-over trail. Before long there were cornstalks and hairy corn worms everywhere. I said nothing. Quick glances of one at the other and finally a foot put to pedal stopped the car. No one got out. A heavy sigh released from uncle followed by a low chuckle then a sigh from stepdad gave us the true clue. The kids said nothing. Moments passed before the request that I take a look at the map was spoken. The river was a few miles away. Farm area was all around us but side roads... county roads, would not get us there. A vote was taken as we sat in the car amidst the six-foot-high corn stalks. They pulled drinks and sandwiches from the cooler and decided to head back home. It was late.

By 2 p.m. we were back on the state highway. "Fish bite in early hours" and people had to "work tomorrow" were focus subjects of short conversation on the ride back. The food was good and the drinks were guaranteed to require "potty stops" but Step dad cleaned up the atmosphere once reaching the familiar scenery of University Park and our own car. As we piled out of Uncle's vehicle at our address once again, I did speak up. I broke the silence, "That was a nice ride, a beautiful day and good company, We should try... " I was cut off with, "...don't know when we could all get together and try that again. See you guys later."

We waived uncle and his three "goodbye" and headed inside for the close of Father's Day.

FATHER'S DAY MEMORIES ARE WHAT YOU MAKE OF THEM!