Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Ode to a dude ... OR ... A post for my son

Son I want to dedicate this post to you.  The following is a description of "a boy" by Alan Beck.  It made me think of you when I read it today.

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.

When you are busy a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy of a pocket-size atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a fire cracker, and when he makes something he has five thumbs on each hand.

He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings and fire engines.

He is not much for Sunday school, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.

Nobody else is so early to rise or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket-a rusty knife, a half eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a sling shot, a chunk of unknown substance and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind.

Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master–a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise.

But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams—he can mend them like new with the two magic words—”Hi Dad!

Well man, I'm not the wordsmith that Mr Beck is and probably can't say things as well.

But let me start by saying ... I'm so proud of you.

When I look at you, I don't see just a kid who likes video games.  I see a young man who is passionate, and good at things that other folks aren't.  I see someone who is a bit like his Dad and hard-headed at times.  But you'll find that hard-hardheadedness will get you through more trouble in life than it causes.  :)

I see a guy who is sensitive and will someday treat a woman with the respect she deserves and, if you end up having kids, I have complete confidence you'll be a good father.

How do I know that?  Simple.  You have a great big heart that is full of love.

When I look at you, I also see a guy who is shy sometimes but that's not all bad either.  I know it seems like it at times though.  But being shy just sometimes makes you cautious.  That's a good thing.  It all gets better as you grow.

So give yourself time to grow and for my sake, don't grow up too fast huh?  I like having you around.  :)

One last thing before I end this post.

Everybody has their passion.  Find yours and never let it go.  Sometimes folks around you will criticize you for following your dreams, especially if they don't benefit from it.

But never be ashamed to be who you are.  And always remember, no matter what ...

I believe in you.  I always have.  I always will.

Forgive an old man for being sentimental around the holidays will ya?  I love you son :)  Sure I'm your Dad but, know too that I'll be here for you as a friend when you need it.

Love Dad

1 comment:

Shaddy said...

It's takes a real man to speak what's in his heart. You are definitely one real man and I know your son will grow up to be one as well.

(Check my blog if you've got a minute).