What are we celebrating, exactly?
The percentage of worthy fathers deserving a fete is vanishingly small. In an unscientific poll of my extended social circle, the family narrative is of an absent or tyrannical father.
And when do even the best fathers enjoy the spotlight?
A grunt, a reluctant hug and a return to the newspaper seems the most likely result of anyone making a fuss.
The sparce list of traditional gifts- tie, leaf blower, cordless drill (mirroring dad's receeding hairline?) makes it the runt of the capitalist consumer holiday litter, cash being the hidden hand that drives such things in our society.
You know Arizona would have embraced Martin Luther King Jr. Day with open arms if the sponsors had found a way to marry it to an orgy of spending.
Mother's Day proves at least a boon to resturants, as children nationwide gird their loins for a few hours of matrimonial CQB that doesn't involve bearding the dragon in its lair...or inviting it into theirs.
Dads, tyrannical or otherwise, would just as soon be left alone.
And most children would be content to leave it at that.
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