There is perhaps nothing more powerful than an absent father.
It is a force that can cause,and has caused, more damage than any weapon ever created. You know the old the saying, "Guns don't kill people. People who are trying to get back at their fathers kill people."
Or something like that.
Adolf Hitler had an absent father.
So did Jeffery Dahmer.
And Tonya Harding.
And the person who invented the term "swag."
And the person who invented the portable air horn.
A person can, I believe, credit the increase in video game usage as a direct result of the neglect of fathers. Sure, many fathers play video games with their children. Some may say that it is a major source of connection between the father and his child. But it is a connection far, far away from real life.
If I could relate a story I recently heard of a real-life connection between a father and his son?
Thanks y'all.
A few of months ago, my future father-in-law invited me to a hunter's banquet. It was not something that I felt obligated to attend. I was happy and willing to go. Even though I'm a vegetarian. Of course, I'm a vegetarian purely for the health benefits not because I'm against killing animals. I believe that any person has the right to eat all of the animals he can kill. Bear. Mountain lions. Goats. Any animal. Except people. And dogs. In other words, eat what you want and let me eat what I want and we can live without having to shank each other. Because, as you will find out, I'm against shanking any animal. When at all possible...
Now that is out of my system, back to my story...
The banquet was at a church, which I guess these things usually are. Hunters are very reverent people. I guess when one is out in the woods pursuing his quarry, he may see some evidence of a higher power. Plus, as we all know, Jesus was a hunter. He used a bow, but I think everyone would agree that he would have used a Remington 700 if it were available. Long range of course. Without a scope. Because the son of God don't need no scope. His aim is perfect.
A moment of silence as we visualize of our lord and savior shooting down a 12-pointed buck from 400 yards with one precise shot in the head.
Pow.
And the lord giveth.
Amen.
Anyway, again...back to my story...
I don't think that a vegetarian is supposed to eat as much meat as I ate that day. I ate elk burritos, muskrat balls, (muskrat meat rolled up into balls. Not the actual balls of a muskrat, you sickos.) venison chili, pheasant wings, boar chops, and a salad (Gotta keep to my roots. Or my root vegetables! Am I right? Carrot power!) Anyway, in the middle of our meal, we had a guest speaker who was a professional hunter. He was an imposing figure...everything about him exuded man. Not the macho, meathead type. The enlightened type who was so confident in his man-ness that he didn't need to advertise...it was just accepted, like he had been a man since he was a fetus.
He was an engaging speaker, as everybody in the room hung onto the adventures he told about his expeditions in Alaska which he called "God's Last Frontier." And he said that phrase with the perfect blend of sincerity and strength and it made everyone in the room long to go there and we all felt guilty that we haven't been there because we could use a taste of God in our lives.
Upon hearing these stories, I was ready to slap on some war paint and my hunter orange fatigues and kill me some grizzlies (although I wouldn't eat them); however, I was particularly moved by the connection he stated that he made with his sons. Especially when he said that there was nothing more that a father can do than to take his sons outdoors--away from TV's, cellphones, and computers and experience the natural world. And the bonding experiences that a father creates with his sons while fishing, camping, and hunting will last a lifetime. And will help them become confident, strong men.
I immediately felt like my pride had just been bitch-slapped. Not because this man was forceful with his words, he wasn't. Nor was he accusatory. He was just right. I should have known better. As a child, I loved being outdoors. Fishing, camping, hiking--you name it. I was a Eagle scout for chrise-sakes! My father, for all his faults, still took the time to take me out on weekends despite the fact that he worked the night before and probably wouldn't get any sleep throughout the weekend. And yet, I have the entire summer off and I've only taken my sons out fishing and camping about three times. And during those times, I was deficient in teaching them any survival skills. They wouldn't know poison ivy from...well, non-poison ivy. (One of them is furry, I think. )They wouldn't know how to make a fire without matches. They wouldn't know how to make a shelter without tools. Or how to dig for worms. Or make a spear. Or tell time without a watch. So...in the time of the apocalypse...they're screwed. Their only hope for survival is to hook up with this speaker's son. And he could lead them to a cellphone before they die from boredom.
My sons and I have spent a lot of time indoors. We have watched every episode of
Avatar: The Last Airbender. We have read several books from The Fudge series to Percy Jackson to One Piece. I introduced them to the genius of Hayao Miyazaki. I have helped them discover the fun and delight of chain stories. And we have examined every aspect of Indiana Jones, Marvel vs. DC, and Naruto. If life were a like a Trivia Pursuit game, then my sons would be generals, but life doesn't just give pie to smart people. Or perhaps that's my perception and fear that comes with the ever-growing phenomenon of the apocalyptic culture. Real men kill animals, gut them, strip off their fur, slap the meat on some open flame that they make with sticks and rocks and eat it with their dirty hands. Real men don't know much about Tortoro or the intricate lives that occur down in Bikini Bottom. In short, real men are prepared to face the true cold nature of the world, not the warm comfortable world of the imagination. And true fathers prepare their sons for reality, not fiction.
The speaker then related a story that was an example of the kind of reality he faced with his son when they were on "God's Frontier"in mid September. They decided to go out fishing even though the forecast called for a storm...you know, I feel rather deficient telling this story, let me attempt to summon the voice of this man so he can tell it himself:
"The river was angry...and suddenly we found ourselves on an island surrounded by the roughest and scariest current known to man. My son and I needed to find a way out. The cold rain was pelting in every direction and I could feel my son's shivering body up against me.
I had to do something...
We were only a few yards away from the main land. I could see our gear. I felt that if I could make it to the other side. Then, I could throw a rope to my son and we could hike back to our car.
I then attempted to cross the river when I was suddenly swept up under the water. It was much deeper than I imagined. And I struggled to make it to the top, but the water was too strong. And then, something inside told me, 'Stop fighting. Let yourself sink. And a solution will present itself.'
So I just let myself go. And let me tell you, it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I thought of my family, my son stranded on the island all by myself, and the mistake I had made that put us in this kind of danger. I felt myself sink down to the bottom, and then I felt a sudden surge of strength in my legs and was able to push off the bottom of the river and get to the top. When I got there, I heard my son screaming for help and I told him, 'It's OK, Son. I'm OK.'
And then, off in the distance, we heard the DNR and his sons running down the hill. They threw a rope out to me and rescued my son and guided us to safety. Now, how did they happen to find us, I don't know, but I believe that it was divine intervention...the existence of God. And it was his presence I heard in my head when I was in the water. And it dawned on me...when I think back on it now. The symbolism of me in that water, deep over my head...how that applies to other areas in my life: my job, my bills, my responsibilities...so often, like many of you, I feel like I'm downing. And my natural urge is to fight...fight against that current. Fight against those problems until I find a solution. I fight because that's what I know. Because it is what I was taught. When life gets rough, you keep fighting, searching, striving...but that's not the way. Because the more we fight, scratch, and claw through our problems, the more we miss the plan that God has for us. And the moment we surrender to his power and trust that he will help us find our footing, he will give you that strength you need to make it through your problems and the stress that comes with your job, finances, and responsibilities and help you embrace what is important. And that's why I'm here. I am here to spread this message. That is my purpose.
I looked at my son, and I apologized to him for putting him out there in such terrible conditions. And he just looked up at me and said that he was just happy that I am with him and that we are going home. And no matter what, THAT is what I take from this experience:that my son and I will always have this story...this true experience. Not the kind of experience you get on the TV, video game, or the internet. A true bond. It was our worst and best moment. And it was one that we will always have."
I listened to this man. And saw the mist in his eyes when he talked about his son. And felt the honest connection between them through his story. A connection I envied. I always thought that I had a strong connection with my sons...but I never had a near death experience with them. I pondered the possibilities and imagined the power such an experience would have on us. WE WOULD BE THE ENVY OF THE WORLD! Since the Alaska experience has already been done, I started thinking about others...bungee jumping in Canada, bicycling on the north side of Flint, sporting sandwich board signs at a Republican Convention that says "Obama and the Gays love you." But these seem more like adolescent pranks and not real, life-changing events. And they may bond us together...but it would be more like a bond that frat brothers feel, not one between a father and son.
Of course, the real question: Do I have to put me and my sons through a near-death experience to feel a real bond with them? God, I hope not. And although camping in "God's Country" does sound exhilarating and I would love every moose-filled moment of it, I think I'll stick with renting cabins at Outdoor Adventures in Davison, MI. At least for now. It's a nice sterile intro to outdoor life and it gives me the enough pleasure that I am doing something that a father should do with his sons that doesn't involve any kind of technology. We swim. We hike. Play mini-golf. Build fires and roast marshmallows. The basics. And since the divorce and my days with them have been seriously (and some may say criminally, although I wouldn't say that, but it has been said by other people) reduced, I prefer experiences grounded in comfort. With WiFi. And popcorn. It is actually my hope that my sons will forever link their memory of me to the smell of popcorn. I can't think of a more powerful element to be linked to, nor a happier one to help them through those long stretches of absence.
