Thursday, June 14, 2007
Quick
06/17/07 QUICK, ITK: What would you think if I sang out of tune?
What would you think if I sang out of tune?
By Caren West
My father and I used to religiously
watch the “Wonder Years” together. To this day, I’m convinced that it’s
one of the all-time great...
1971: Bill West with Caren’s brother Jay, just one year before Father’s Day was instituted.
CREDIT: Courtesy of Caren West |
What would you think if I sang out of tune?
By Caren West
My father and I used to religiously watch the “Wonder Years” together. To this day, I’m convinced that it’s one of the all-time greatest television series ever created. I’m a complete sucker for shows that center on the rites of passage—the internal struggles that the Kevin Arnolds and Winnie Coppers in all of us endured as we became adults. And although I love that show, what I truly cherish are the times that I got to hunker down on the couch and hang out with my dad, who also taught me to love the Beatles, Bob Dylan and Creedence Clearwater Revival.
I’m sure I’ve said it before, but my father is truly one of the greatest people I’ve ever met, and, whether he knows it or not, he inspires me to be a better person every single day. So the other evening when I was innocently listening to Dave FM and Margot Smith started chatting about how she’s thankful for radio because it always reminds her when Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are (due to station giveaways), it dawned on me that I had completely forgotten about Father’s Day. I felt like such a jerk.
How could I possibly forget the one day of the year that pays tribute to the man who sat through countless ballet recitals; drove with the windows down in the winter with the heat turned on at full blast, at my behest; and the first time my heart was broken, told me that it was OK, because it meant I cared? Ugh. Just wrong.
My lame excuse is that I’m terrible at remembering dates, birthdays, special occasions, anniversaries and holidays. For example, I recently asked my beau how long we’d been dating. He looked at me and said, “Almost three years,” and laughed. I guess that is a little beyond “dating,” right? So it’s no surprise that when it came to school, specifically history, my non-date-remembering mind wasn’t helping me out much on any multiple choice quizzes. Admittedly, my inability to remember dates is not one of my finer points—a trait that is in total opposition to my father, who is a human calendar.
Margot got me wondering, though. Why isn’t Father’s Day as big of a deal as Mother’s Day? Everyone gets all crazy about moms, taking them to brunch, buying them flowers and cheesy cards. Maybe it’s because of the whole “birth” thing, but it’s almost as if dad’s are always a second thought. Turns out, after a little Google action, I confirmed my suspicion. According to Dictionary.com:
The celebration of Father's Day was inspired by the success of Mother's Day (which was observed nationally for the first time in 1914). Sonora Smart Dodd of Spokane, Washington, was listening to a Mother’s Day sermon in church in 1909 and decided that fathers deserved a similar day of recognition. Her father, a Civil War veteran, raised Sonora and her five siblings after their mother died in childbirth. She circulated a petition suggesting the third Sunday in June (the month in which her father was born) and urging people to wear a rose on that day in honor of their fathers. The first Father’s Day was celebrated on June 19, 1910. It was not until 1966, under President Lyndon B. Johnson, that it was proclaimed a national holiday and observance of this on the third Sunday in June was made a law in 1972.
1972!? Man, what a crock. Poor dads. I definitely feel where Sonora Smart Dodd of Spokane was coming from. After my parents got divorced, I lived with my dad. He raised me through my horrible teenage years and has been a profound influence in shaping who I am today. If ol’ Sonora was still alive and kicking, I would personally thank her for being the first kid to step up to the plate. Of course, I love my mom and step-mom more than words can say, but I have and always will be, a Daddy’s girl.
In honor of all the dads out there, this column is for you. I hope you know how important you are. And, Dad … thank you. I always get teary eyed whenever I hear Joe Cocker’s version of “With a Little Help from My Friends.” Happy Father’s Day.
When not attending Atlanta's hottest parties, tracking down celebs or shopping for shoes, Caren West runs her own PR firm. E-mail her at carenwest@sundaypaper.com.