Father's Day 2007

Sunday was my second Father's Day where I wasn't just giving attention to my Father, but also a dad myself. I think most of my Father's day present to my dad was providing tech support for their computer (Office 2003 suddenly decided it wanted to be installed again), but I got a couple of great gifts.

First off, my kids (as directed by my lovely and gracious wife, since the kids are still much too little to make these kinds of decisions) purchased a ticket to a Mariners - Indians doubleheader in September. I think I've made my abundant love of the American National Pastime clear, and while I'd still rather watch a National League game, spending the day at the ballpark and taking in a pair of games is something I've wanted to do for a long time.

The second gift was The Dangerous Book for Boys. Just skimming though it, I think it's an absolutely phenomenal tome. When I was a certain age (about 8 to 13) this kind of book, with its wide range of subjects from great historical battles to instructions on the proper hunting, skinning, and cooking of rabbits; would have been poured over countless times. I look forward to sharing much of the knowledge contained therein with my son.

After all, looking back on my childhood, what do my brothers and I reminisce about? It isn't the time we spent all day sitting on the couch watching TV, it's the time we chased one of Birdy's (my second brother) rockets down the street after it underwent a somewhat less than optimally successful launch.

Momentum is easy, gaining it is hard

My best friend from college, along with his wife, are coming for a visit to Casa de Caster this weekend. I've known R.S. for ten years, and if it weren't for him, K.F., and D.L., I probably would have been among the freshmen at my college who simply disappear after one year.

The short version of the story is that my freshman year was miserable. One roommate was genuinely evil, another was an Alabama redneck named Bubba. Most of my classes were boring. The rules annoyed me.

If it weren't for my five friends, all of whom I knew would be back, and who I knew I'd miss if I bailed, I would have quit. Maybe I'd have a good job doing something else, but if I'd quit after a year, I would have missed out on building the great friendships I still have, and I never would have met my beautiful wife. It would have been the biggest mistake of my life.

Since R.S., myself, and both our wives are graduates of the same school, we'll probably spend the weekend joking about our alma mater, complaining about how things have gone downhill since we left, discussing kids and playing lots of games. It's good to have friends. It's better to be friends.