|
||||||||||
|
||||||||||
This is an archive site only. It is no longer maintained.
You can not post comments. You can not make an account. Your email
will not be read. Please read this
page if you have questions. |
||||||||||
This weekend, I returned home to visit for Father's Day. By God, I love that old geek.
|
|||||||||||||||
My Dad is a geek, through and through. He is an electrical engineer, and a damned good one. He has a closet full of punch cards and half-finished gadgets encased in lunchboxes. He enjoys sci-fi more than human contact. He's my father, and without him, I would not be the man I am today.
He came from a working class family in the Midwestern United States. Sportsmanship and competition was important in his family, and he excelled in sports. But he also enjoyed science in fact and fiction. In middle school he discovered a love for math. In high school he excelled in academics and sports while courting my future mother. His football abilities were able to get him a scholarship to a quality university where he studied electrical engineering. The day after graduation he got married. My mom is decidedly not a geek, but they were (and still are) in love. She is a simple Catholic woman from a poor family and is an ideal wife and mother. She never went to college but has an interpersonal intelligence all her own. My Dad may never have been able to discuss the latest scientific developments or Star Trek with her, but it didn't matter. He would soon raise three little geeklings, and could discuss such things with them. When my two siblings and I were born, he made an effort to emphasize the importance of science, math, and sportsmanship. Although I have little in the way of athletic talent, I learned a lot on the baseball, soccer, and football fields. He pushed us to excel, and was the best math teacher I ever had. He understood the school science fair as vital hands-on experience with the scientific method, and helped us with our projects. Every summer starting after 8th grade, he tutored and coached us in the SAT and ACT. I owe him my perfect score on the SAT. All three of us got academic scholarships because of our high SAT scores. He pushed all three of us toward engineering, and succeeded with the younger two (I went into medicine). My sister is following exactly in his footsteps, studying the same major at the same college. He got me a job at his workplace, and I spent a few summers there. Unsurprisingly, his employees and supervisors respected him more than I did. He was the hardest worker in the place, and everyone valued his advice. He could figure out complicated problems in a quarter of the time of anyone else. I enjoyed coming home and watching "Spider-Man" with him. He introduced me to comicbooks, and we enjoyed them together, even if he did take them out of my protective plastic covers and fold them backwards and ruin their value. Some may think it would be horrible to be raised by a geek. There were some downsides. I didn't learn much about women from him. He lucked out and found his true love at the age of 16. He also hasn't been supportive of my musical endeavors; it's all "artsy-fartsy crap" to him. And sometimes his avoidance of human interaction can be embarassing. But considering all the bad fathers out there (and even within my extended family), I wouldn't trade him for the world. My sister and I went shopping for Father's day on Saturday. We knew he would want something he could enjoy with the whole family. My sister got him the Star Wars Game of Life. I saw a light-up frisbee and was reminded of my childhood, playing catch with a Glo-Stick after dark. At night on Father's Day, the five of us threw a flashing frisbee while shining our Photon Lights at each other. It was a comical mix between a sport and a geek-out rave.
My Dad's a geek, and I love him. If someday, maybe at Best Buy, or waiting in line for Episode III tickets, you see a bald middle-aged man wearing a MYST t-shirt with ripped sleeves (to show his bulging biceps), say "Hi" for me. But he'll probably ignore you and pretend not to hear, so maybe you better not. |