Father's Day, baby

Father's Day, man. It's a gas. You don't go into this whole parenthood thing to get awards, but it's nice to get an official pat on the back once a year.
Being a parent is like being given god-like powers as a puny human being. Very dangerous. The power to create life. An imperfect, tangled web of contradictions, partly truth and partly fiction, the human mom, the human dad, so imperfect yet allowed to bring another life into the world.
That's a big part of what's wrong with the world and will always be wrong with the world. Transference of stupidity. My neighbors are a perfect example. They are the most rude, the crudest, stupid, inconsiderate people on the planet. Mom idiot and dad idiot are my age. We knew we were in trouble when they moved next door to us from down the street. Their neighbors from down the street told us "they are your problem now."
They are petty, unhappy people who chose to pass their pettiness and unhappiness on to their kids. They have a daughter living with them who now has kids and she is every bit as ignorant as her parents are. Never talks to her kids, always yelling at them in a piercing, exceptionally annoying voice. Does not allow them to just be kids. No patience. The one goddamn trait you have to have as a parent is patience. Along with sensitivity. The kids whine and cry all the time because they get no sensitivity. They will probably continue the chain of stupidity unless they can evolve; the odds are not in their favor.
These are people who do not see being a parent as a reverent thing, as a holy, spiritual thing. They don't see it as an opportunity to evolve themselves, to try to avoid passing unhappiness down. They ignorantly pass on all their frustrations onto their kids who grow up angry.
I tried to be different. I did not enjoy my childhood so I tried to rebel against my parents' recipe for being a parent. Now to be honest I don't know exactly to what degree I succeeded. Unfortunately for my sons, for most of the time they lived in this house I was a very unhappy man. An accountant/ slave, rock 'n roll wannabe trapped in the 9 to 5, never enough money to fuel my grand vision of what life should be. Drank a lot. So I'm sure there were times when I passed my own frustrations on or at least exposed my sons to this ugliness. Rookie mistake. My point is that I at least tried to learn from my own childhood, tried a different way of being a dad so that I could bring my best effort towards making my sons happy. I guarantee you that thought process never entered my neighbors' minds, has not entered their daughter's mind and will probably never enter her kids' minds.
What I do remember is that coming home to my sons was the glorious part of the day. It was my release and a high powered adrenaline shot of pure joy. As tired and frustrated and angry as I was, I always looked forward to wrapping my arms around them, playing with them, being silly with them. I looked at them as these magical creatures, mini-humans, who could pass their wonder and laughter on to me. They gave me laughter and potent love and they still do. I still look at them in the same way except now, compared to them, I am the mini-human.
A few years ago my magic wife broke out a cassette thingy and slammed it into the cassette thingy machine in an effort to embarrass Keith in front of his lovely lady. I imagine everybody was digging the family scene and enjoying Keith's littleness, but what I saw was the intense happiness vibe coming off of me, the absolute pure joy, love and wonder that was a result of being with my sons. Imagine the power they held to be able to cut through my frustration, anger and life disappointment to get me to just laugh, freely and with pride and abandon. It was a shock to see it because I don't often feel that way anymore. But I am working on it. Having the wife I have makes pursuing happiness a little easier.
I got off track as usual. Here's the point. Being a parent is sacred. You have the responsibility for a life. A LIFE. You have the responsibility to think about what made you unhappy as a kid and to try real hard not to repeat those mistakes with your own kids. That's called evolving. It's called improving the human race. You have to see the deal as a two way street. Your kids can teach you how to be alive again, how to look around with wonder, how to just laugh. They can give you a new perspective, even as they get older and craft their own lives. They have taken what you gave them and blended it with their own unique personalities to create a hybrid human who is probably better than you are. You can learn from that.
I hope my own frustrations did not hurt them too much and I hope I never did anything stupid that left a scar in their minds. I gave it my best shot with the limited capabilities available to me.
The only thing I do know is that being a dad is the single greatest thing that ever happened to me. Still is. There are only three people out of 6 billion who can inspire pure happiness in me. My two sons and the magical lady who brought them into this world and cared for them with such love and tenderness that they couldn't help but be happy.
That's powerful stuff.