An open note to my kids, or anyone who has a dad
First published in The Study of Light, on Substack, on June 19, 2026
Dad's dad, Ed, was not cool. At least he didn't try to be, I'm sure. But what young man wouldn't rock this look if he could? A small town Nebraska Catholic Czech, he declared his sons would become doctors or priests. Uncle Tom became a general practitioner. Uncle Joe became a surgeon. Dad broke rank and chose business administration, Marjorie Hanger (true love and marriage), and fatherhood (Chelle, Mark, Jay, and Drew).
The New York Times, once again, has published its New-Yorky list of great ideas for what to get Dad this year. It has to be a terrible article to have to write, something they assign to a recent college graduate, to see if they’re tough enough for journalism. I was once an actual journalist for a small town daily (the Stillwater Evening Gazette), so I know about this. I was a photojournalist, but I did write stories, captions, and some long-disowned opinion pieces.
Seriously, how about a Royal Golden Birdie Nose & Ear Hair Trimmer, because, "where are my g-damn pliers?!!! Did one of you borrow my pliers and not put them back?!"
The newspaper suggests an “ultimate bagel knife!” How New Yorky can you get? They are also promoting back issues of CREEM, the rock and roll magazine that has been revived and yet I still haven’t read, old ones or new ones, because I live in Wisconsin and I am a rube. I would be less of a rube, I am certain, if my children would bless me with a pair of Lowe rivet mules, stylish footwear for a mere $1400. Colorful, sophisticated sleepwear is also on offer. For $450 I could finally rotate out of my t-shirt and worn-out boxers, for a smartly designed set of sleep duds, whose name escapes, and because remember, I am a rube, and because dropping designer names just encourages them.
What about thrifting for Dad? Come on, NYT! Let’s make it real!
In this spirit I give you my list what I, father of three, would like to receive from my stellar offspring this year. If you are shopping for your dad, consider these:
#1
Nothing. Same as I asked for last year and many years before. I am old enough and wealthy enough (middle class!) to honestly say I have all the things I need, and even those I am getting rid of.
But if you must give me something, how about love?
C-U-R-M-U-D-G-E-O-N. Fun, at times. Creative monster. Says he wants nothing for Father's Day, except maybe love, time, and things will have passed through his body in the next several days.
Nothing. Same as I asked for last year and many years before. I am old enough and wealthy enough (middle class!) to honestly say I have all the things I need, and even those I am getting rid of.
But if you must give me something, how about love?
#2
Here's a photo of Love, that conspicuously resembles Nothing.
Love.
I am one lucky dad. And I wish all you other dads the same. There is enough love in the world, like there is enough food, if only we can learn to distribute it. Kids, share some more of that with me, and I’ll be good. And then let’s spread it to everyone else.
#3
Time.
My mom used to ask me, all worried-like, what she should give to my kids for Christmas. I always told her “love and time.” Because they had dozens of stuffed animals already. They just wanted her.
Time is harder than love, somehow. It’s a sign of the times. So kids, come when you can, and stay for a while. We’ll have a ball. Remember, this isn’t a reprise of the tearjerker hit Cats in the Cradle. It’s just you and me and Mom, eating dinner and laughing, a lot.
Now, speaking of Time and Love, give this song a listen, if you dare. Whether you’re a child or a parent, do all you can to get this right.
#4
Forgiveness
I tried to give you a perfect childhood. Together with Mom, I failed.
I really believe that the “perfect childhood” is one of the worst things that can happen. It’s the mishaps, the tears, the lessons — all those opportunities — that make you. That said, I am sorry if I hurt you. I know I did sometimes. Please forgive me.
Kids, all kids out there, forgive your dads, if you can. I know sometimes it’s too hard. Do the best you can.
My dad passed twenty-two years ago. He was a great dad and a great man. Sometimes when I think of him, all my memories are happy. At other times, I get hopping mad. So I forgive you Dad. And I love you.
THIS man.
#5
Seriously, don’t get me the bagel knife or the pajamas or the clogs. If you have lots of money, and you must spend it, give it to a worthy cause we both agree on. Or subscribe me to a newspaper that upholds standards of journalism!
It’s great to be a dad. To all you non-dads out there, I salute you too. Have a Happy Father’s Day, whichever side of that relationship you are on.
Jim, Geri's dad, was what I think of as the classic grandpa. If not for him, my kids might not have ever fished, or ridden in a boat, or laughed their asses off. He was a sweet, sweet man and dad and grandpa. Dottie is still here, thank God.