Happy Father's Day to Jim, who has taught our son to think independently and always root for the underdog, who has been a better mother than me sometimes, ( make that... MOST of the time) who has tolerated the antics of our fur baby like only a loving, understanding father could.
I also want to wish a Happy Father's Day to a fictional character, Andre Johnson, portrayed so brilliantly by the actor who is long over due for that elusive Emmy, Anthony Anderson.
Yes, I'm giving a shout out to a fictional character on a recently cancelled sitcom, because that sitcom is where I first learned about another very special holiday as we celebrate "Juneteenth" today. Thanks to that very special episode of "Black-ish", a lot of us unaware folks learned about the significance of this date, which makes me very proud to know that it's now recognized as a national holiday.
And finally, I want to wish a..(nah..not gonna say "heavenly--that's cliche, and I avoid cliches like the plague) happy Father's Day to the man I called my Dad, who gave me my cynicism and sarcasm and my love of adorably obnoxious dogs and spicy food and winning home teams.
While I often saw myself as a hopelessly unattractive big ball of nothing in my formative years, my Dad would always find my princess qualities. I can still hear his voice saying, "Sug..(short for "Sugar") you are not fat. You are Jewish, and Jewish girls are never fat. Jewish girls are "fet,"
I shared this description/word with my college BFF Jim, who was never repulsed by "fet"..he'd always poke my belly or grab a bare arm in the movie theater, gently patting it while referring to it as "nice fet"..something comforting and therapeutic to the touch.
He was never grossed out touching anything jiggly, nor was he turned on, because let's face it, it was never attached to Patrick Swayze.
He'd go a little overboard back in those days...discreetly whispering "fet" as we'd stroll by strangers who'd fit in a range anywhere between Drew Barrymore and Jabba the Hutt.
I'd hear my father audibly calling me "fet" with respect and affection, and I'd hear my BFF calling me "fet" in what could pass as an overused stage whisper.
One year, I dragged him off to a summer camp for adults in the Berkshires, the place where I'd meet my husband of thirty something years just over a year later.
At first, I thought it might not have been such a hot idea to bring someone like my BFF into the woods, with all the bugs and bears and killer tomatoes. He was used to five star hotels where the beds had high thread count sheets and the bathrooms had footed tubs with solid gold trim, now he was stuck with me in a wooded cabin that looked like it could momentarily burst into flames.
But he got his groove on, accepting that this was going to be his home for that weekend, and the next day, we both were enjoying mid-afternoon naps, as the sun was pleasantly streaming through the windows.
I was the first to wake up from the enjoyable slumber, to a chorus of the word "fet" being whispered over and over again.
Well..OK..NOBODY looks good or just pleasingly plump when they first wake up,m but did he have to start with me?
I heard it again and again and again: "Fet..".."Fet".."fet!"
I told him that the joke was wearing..well..THIN..and he replies, "it's not me. Go back to sleep. It's a bird."
The cabin was remarkably quiet, and we heard it again this time, unmistakably and distinct.
"FET!!"
He looks at me and says, "Oh my God..that bird is using your father's word. That bird outside is saying "fet"!"
Which it, the bird or birds, said forty more times that afternoon, giving us the biggest laugh we ever had in our almost fifty year friendship.
To all the other Dads out there: Enjoy your BBQ's and your new ties, shower your kids with hugs and affection, and assure your chubby daughter that she is beautiful even if she's chubby, even if she's not even Jewish, assure her she is nice and "fet" and she makes your world.
Happy Juneteenth to all the loving Dads out there
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