Father's Day

We used to get my Dad a tie every year for Father’s Day. One tie from five kids – that was it. Looking back that seems kind of cheap.

If my kids got me just a tie for Father’s Day, I would think I had done something wrong - kind of like the lump of coal that naughty boys get at Christmas. You see I am a bit flawed - I like stuff. I think I may be too materialistic. Although as I get older things means less and less to me as I have witnessed enough damage from moths and rust to know these treasures do not last.

We didn’t have an excessive amount of resources at our house when I was young. We ate butter sandwiches for lunch, and we rarely threw leftovers away. But, we were happy. Going to out to eat, even to McDonald’s, was a treat. We didn’t have pop in the house to grab on a whim, and Kool-Aid was a special drink.

My parents, like most of my friend’s folks, had grown up during the great depression. Mom had memories of eating beans three times a day and Dad talked about his mother feeding the men who walked the country side looking for something to eat and willing to trade work to get it. Dad told us that these men would be invited in to sit at his father and mother’s table, but the men – either too proud or too ashamed – chose to sit outside and sleep in the barn until they moved on in the morning.

We have come along way in a generation. I remember the day I saw my first color TV. It was at the home of a prosperous family in Belle Plaine; “Bonanza” was playing. I was so taken by the color of the Cartwright clothing that for years I compared all TVs to that experience. My family had a black and white console at home for many years. It was an Admiral brand. There were only five channels available, if you counted Channel 2 (the educational channel). I grew up watching “Star Trek,” “Lassie,” “The Wonderful World of Disney,” “Lawrence Welk,” and “The Wizard of Oz” (including the “color” part) all in black and white.

B&W television sets probably became obsolete with the change from analog to digital broadcasting. They surely were manufactured without a thought of digital signals, and I can’t imagine that many would upgrade a TV that is worth less than the converter box.

There is one scene involving a B&W TV set that will forever haunt me. Twenty-five years ago or so Rhonda, my girlfriend (now my wife), bought a TV for me as a gift through the newspaper want-ads. We got directions to a house in the country. The father let us in without much conversation. “There it is,” he said pointing to the small TV. I noticed that it was the only TV in the sparsely decorated room. It was kind of hard to get a good look at it because of the four small sad children standing around it trying to keep it from running away. Rhonda gave the man the $50.00 and I reluctantly picked up the TV and carried it to the car.

On the ride back to town and for the next 25 years, we have wondered whether he was getting rid of the TV to protect his children from moral decay, or if he just desperately needed the money.

You know, I think one tie is really all I need after all.