Happy Father’s Day
While my website is idled and getting repaired (it's there just not able to share new content) , my Substack followers get some extra content.
Today is Father’s Day, and having been one for just over thirty years, I can say that my approach to this particular Sunday in June is very laid back. I don’t have high expectations, not because no one would try to meet them but because life is easier for everyone, especially me, if I don’t.
Fatherhood is, of course, crucial to family, society, culture, and is a foundation of the American Republic. Children raised in an environment with both parents just do better, which is a boon to the society in which they are raised. But nearly every nation or culture has a Father's Day.
Over 130 countries celebrate Father’s Day, 86 of them, on the third Sunday in June.
Where Mother’s Day fractures into six competing date rules, Father’s Day overwhelmingly converges on one: the third Sunday of June — June 21 in 2026 — observed in some 86 countries from the United States and the UK to India, Japan, Mexico and most of Africa. But a meaningful minority breaks away. Catholic Europe honours fathers on March 19, the feast of St Joseph. The southern hemisphere waits until spring. Germany ties the day to a Christian feast and a beer-fuelled hike. And a long tail of countries — Thailand, Taiwan, Russia, South Korea, Nepal — pick a date that has nothing to do with anyone else’s.
We wouldn’t have a world without fathers, no matter what your thoughts are about a woman’s body and the children she carries and bears. All the scientific and medical advances in the world still require some “biological” material to give us the gift of children. Donor daddies are not a new thing, while examples that will never meet the mother are more recent.
Terms and conditions apply, but they are still fathers. Even though they may not know who or by whom. If you’ve ever donated sperm to a sperm bank, I’m not sure how the conversation goes when you and your main squeeze have kids, but if you watch television, it’s awkward, and the mother of your children is supposed to not show how to take that. It’s almost like you hid a long list of likely exes for which you must now atone.
I’m not sure how I’d feel, but I don’t have to worry about that. I never “donated” in this fashion, and I can’t think of any other way to say that which isn’t crass, or an overshare, but it wasn’t ever going to be an issue. But there are “fathers” aplenty who have. DO they celebrate quietly on their own? Do they have a support group or do a bro-cation or some such thing? They aren’t divorced dads, but they are divorced from the life that shares half their DNA? Should they? Do you have to be a dad in person, or is this an unexplored path our culture has openly accepted, but that greeting card companies have yet to profit from?
Happy maybe Father's Day!?
As for gifts, I’ve received the traditional school-aged kid gifts. Hand-painted ties were a thing, and in every instance it is the thought that counts, even if I thought I had to give you a gift. I think I still have all the handmade cards someplace. And sure, some gifts are more thoughtful than others, but I’ve made it clear that I’m more than pleased with beer. It is something I want and enjoy, will use, and appreciate.
Free beer has long been my favorite, but my offspring know that the traditional piss-water American pilsners and lagers are not high on the list. Sam Adams is always a safe bet, even as I’ve surrounded myself in more recent decades with high-quality micro-brews, IPAs, and the rest.
There are no strong beers, only weak men. But I know plenty of strong men who prefer weak beer, and that’s fine too, especially if you are offering me one.
Grilled meat is also an excellent gift. It can be delivered by waitstaff or supervised by me on the grill on my deck (or someone else, if I feel like they are qualified, usually another dad). Burgers, steaks, sausages, ribs, whatever. The smell of it is a gift, the taste a journey in culinary pleasure. Again, not picky. I have no problem with grilled chicken in close proximity. Barbecue sauce does wonderful things to chicken, and there are so many variations as to make boredom only a problem if you deliberately embrace it.
Nothing is also an excellent gift if it is accompanied by shade trees and a light summer breeze (which we happen to have today, where I live). I will confess I’m not wired for nothing, so that would be a brief moment in the day. Maybe with a beer and a book and no bugs, the latter of which are difficult to avoid in New England in June.
And I’d rather be doing something, especially if the weather is accommodating. More likely to mow or cut wood, do yardwork, or just about anything else. A Sunday without extra interruptions is an invitation to check boxes. Getting things done is also a gift, in my mind, and crossing things off lists makes me feel good, and that’s a great plan for every day, not just Father’s Day.
As with all things, you do you, especially if you are an in-person father who raised their kids alongside their mother and found a way around, over, or through all the things life throws at you. That’s the best way to teach future fathers and mothers how it’s done and why.
Happy Father’s Day.
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!