Garrett’s “Daddy Time”

by Thomas M. Pender

Today is my middle son Garrett’s 12th birthday.  Time has sure flown.  He’s as tall as my neck, and way too big for me to carry around.  There was a time, however, that he and I spent many magical moments together. . . .

Garrett has always lived with his mother, and while this was not what I envisioned when I planned a family, this arrangement did mean that his time with me was special.  He would always run to me when I pulled up to his house (and in fact, I was told that whenever a car parked near the house, he would ask if I was there!).  During his toddling years, I loved putting him up on my shoulders.  Sitting at an approximate shoulder height of 5’10” or so, Garrett really enjoyed the higher outlook on his world, too!  He would grab two fistfuls of hair, and ride Dad around the house and yard.  What I got a kick out of, though, was that every so often, he would swing his head down on my right so he could see my face.  It seemed to me that he was checking to make sure it was still Daddy on the other side of the head he was grabbing onto.  It always made me laugh.

When he was a bit older, he started to understand that my visits were never for long . . . and he also started to protest my departures!  He would cry or yell “No!” when I would tell him I had to go, and he would latch onto my leg to make leaving impossible.  For quite some time, I had to enlist the help of his maternal grandmother in order to get to my car.  I would give her a nod when it was time for me to leave, and she would say, “Garrett, come and see what’s in the kitchen!” or “You want some juice, Garrett?” or the like, and when he followed her out of the room (which would be the closest room to the door), I’d duck out.  My son is intelligent, however.  After a few weeks of this, he would still go to his grandmother, but he’d very quickly poke his head back in to make sure I was still there!  A few months later, he was developed enough to hop down from my lap to go see his grandmother, but he’d point at me first and say, “Don’t leave!”

I love the man Garrett is becoming, but I have to admit that I miss the days when he ran to me upon arrival . . . and threatened me before leaving the room.

Happy birthday, Garrett!  I love you!

The Invisible Swords of College Conquest

by Thomas M. Pender

College – or, as I’m apt to refer to it, “The Limbo of Life” – was a wonderful and magical sphere of being, where you get to be an adult, but you get to be a kid again, too!  While you are working to better yourself, it’s also the first time you get to be on your own (assuming you go away to school, as I did) to really find out who you are.  It’s also a great place to meet all kinds of people, and learn what kinds of friends you really wish to have!

To no one’s shock, my chosen friends were all loons.

My freshman year, while being incredibly challenging and lesson-teaching (mostly the outside-the-classroom-lessons-of-Life kind), was made up of nine straight months of laughter and adventure, centered around a goofy crew of a few close-knit men who made the most – and the most fun – of any and every situation.

Dating rituals, for example.  While I have no doubt that those I met and chose as friends were polite gentlemen on their dates (although they’d never admit it back then, whilst trying to maintain their coolness), in our women-free zone of male bonding time, we had great fun discussing upcoming dates, successful dates, women of interest and certainly attractive complete strangers who passed our way.  One ritual that just kind of “happened” was the sword brandishing.

On a random day when one of us in the group was discussing an upcoming date, a successful date or a woman of interest, someone . . . most likely Terry “Trigger” Thompson . . . pulled an invisible sword from an invisible sheath attached to his invisible belt, made the sound of a sword being drawn, held it invisibly aloft and made a sort of pirate-y cry of triumph.

Those of us in attendance proceeded to immediately bust our collective guts, love the action, and mimic the action.  A tradition was born.

After that, whenever one of us had an upcoming date, a successful date or had met a woman of interest to talk about, however many of us in attendance would immediately draw our invisible swords (complete with sound effects, of course!), invisibly clang them together, and re-insert them.

Silly?  Yes.  Immature?  Granted.  Fun and memorable boy fun?  Yar!

As is the case with everything that went on during that incredible year, the tradition has faded as friends have gone their ways.  Still, I know for a fact that the men these kids have become have a silly and raucous side to them, hidden beneath their business neckties and barbecuing aprons.  Should two or more of us meet up, and one have a piece of good news to share, I have no doubt that those in attendance will find that the swords of triumph, first wielded in the dormitories of Michigan State, are still firmly affixed.

Huzzah!