Like Father, Like Son [ Post # 16 ]

Oh, family dynamics. Aren’t they interesting? We all have different relationships with our family members, don’t we? In this blog I am going to write about my relationship with my father, something I never thought I’d be writing about, but here I am doing just that.

I’ve mentioned my father a couple of times in previous blogs. About him trying to thwart my dream of being a pilot and my desire for a college education and him standing up for me when my high school counselor said I couldn’t take English Literature class because I was not “college material.” Well, upon deep reflection, I realize now that my father and I did have some things in common, even though I did not realize it in my childhood. We did not have a great relationship, maybe, but I did learn from him at times.

My father was a writer at heart. He was a journalist most of his life. He was a newspaper reporter and eventually a columnist. He even wrote his memoirs which I only discovered a few years ago. After moving his family from Michigan to California he was a Hollywood correspondent for the Lansing State Journal, writing a column for years as a movie reviewer and a reporter of the Hollywood and celebrity scene. I wish I had kept his columns as I’d love to read them now to remember how he wrote. Oh, well, bottom line, he was a writer.

He did not enjoy having to cover gory murder and crime scenes as a reporter, but other than that, he loved his work. He was always writing. So, now that I’ve started blogging (the modern day version of him writing his personal newspaper column), I realize somehow I have the same urge in me that he had to write about stuff ( life, observations, opinions, etc.). It didn’t hit me until now that we had that in common. I guess I did pick up his interest, desires and motivations and talents (?), well, don’t know about that.

Although he did send us kids to church and Sunday school in my early years, he was not what you would call a “religious” man. He liked church because the minister was a big football fan and talked sports a lot. As for the religious part of church, I don’t think he was much interested. Not a big believer in God, as I saw it. I guess you would call him an agnostic.

Eventually, when I became a more religious person in my teen years, he probably had problems with that. And then, when after college I went on to seminary to prepare for the ministry, well, that definitely confused him, I’m sure. He probably also had a problem with me since I did not grow up to be an athlete and a strong sports fan. It’s not that I didn’t try. I did play football as a kid in the neighborhood and played little league baseball for a short time. But I was never that good, and sports was a big thing for him. I did go to a lot of sporting events, high school football games every week, Angels games (he loved the Angels and hated the Dodgers and had frequent contact through his writing with Gene Autry, owner of the Angels). But I was never the fanatic sports fan I think he wanted me to be. When my nephews came along years later, he was thrilled as they all became fanatical sports fans.

He sensed I was different, I’m sure, but that’s the way it was. You can’t be all things to all people. But, somehow, I did pick up this writing thing. During my elementary school years, I started a neighborhood newspaper which my dad occasionally helped me with. I enjoyed that, even going out and getting local merchants to pay to advertise in it. I remember in college, I had to write a letter to my draft board when I lost my college deferment and needed them to reinstate it. My college roommate was very impressed with my writing skills at that time when he read my letter.

So, like father-son relationships, there were good things and some not so good things. He was never warm and close with me but he was helpful at times and never cruel or abusive (except perhaps verbally). He could cuss and swear and unfortunately that trait was picked up by me and I really struggle with that to this day.

I’m okay with all of this. This was life in my family. This was my relationship with my father. It could have been better and it could have been much worse. I survived and I went on to create and live my life. It has been a good life and I am grateful for all of it. In the long run, it’s all good. Good lessons were learned along the way.

Wally