Happy Birthday Dad!

Recently I wrote about the milestone birthdays I’ve helped celebrate this year. This weekend, I will celebrate one of the most important of all.

This Friday is my dad’s 80th birthday.

You might know my dad from the bits and pieces I’ve included in my columns over the years. He’s the man who crafted my favorite Halloween costume of all time; a pack of Tareyton cigarettes. It was also my dad who took me to scary movies when I was a teen, though he would always see the movie first to be sure I could handle it. (“The Exorcist” when I was thirteen? What were you thinking Dad?)

It’s my dad who likes to order Christmas presents from the “Everything 3 for $20” catalog (I have two sisters…). Speaking of Christmas, it was my dad who happened to be standing next to my younger sister in church on Christmas Eve when she set her hair on fire during the candlelight service. Luckily, Dad beat out the flames before anyone noticed. You may also recall that my dad has eaten countless servings of Spam and Bean pie as well as the black jelly beans that no one wanted at Easter. Dad’s the one who tapes the Thanksgiving Day parade, so we can play back any mishaps ad nauseaum.

Dad’s the one who clued me in to our real family history, complete with gravediggers, jugglers and prostitutes. He’s the one who gave us rides on his back in our swimming pool, took us to the Jersey shore for two weeks every summer and who sent me a letter shortly after my college graduation telling me just how proud he was. He’s the man who still does the NY Time crossword puzzle in about 20 minutes…in pen.

These are all tidbits about my dad that you may or may not remember from my columns. But those are just a fraction of the things that make up my dad.
My dad was the first kid on his block to own a television. He charged his friends comic books to come and watch it. He has a divot in his forehead where one of those friends hit him with a rock.

My dad can build or fix anything. Our house is filled with bookcases and cabinets built by my father. When something breaks, the first person I seek out is my dad.
My dad is smart, MENSA smart. Yet he still enjoys watching “America’s Funniest Home Videos” and “Kung Fu Theater.” A doctor of education, he spent more than 30 years working as an elementary school principal in a tough neighborhood. After disciplining unruly students all day, my dad came home to three unruly daughters. But he stuck it out, year after year, in order to provide for his family.

Somehow my dad managed to send all three of his kids to college, including his middle daughter who chose a fancy, private college which didn’t offer much in the way of financial aid (hint…it’s me). He then proceeded to pay off that same daughter’s student loans. He bailed me out when I proved myself unable to manage my first credit card. He loaned money on several occasions and held me to a payment schedule to teach me the responsibility of paying back a debt.

My dad was the one who went driving around at 2 a.m. searching for his teenage daughters who ignored their curfew and didn’t think to call home. This was long before cell phones, and now that I’m a parent myself, I can’t imagine how awful that must have felt.

My dad gave each of us away at our weddings and danced with us at the reception, though he wasn’t much for dancing. He surprised us by joining an amateur theater group and played small roles in productions of “The Crucible” (as a magistrate) and “You Can’t Take It With You” (Mr. Kirby). He laughed about a reviewer’s assessment of his “wooden” performance. After he retired, he surprised us again by becoming a Mason. Zooming up the ranks of the order my agnostic father was appointed the group’s chaplain. He assured me this was proof that even God has a sense of humor.

Dad slices pizzas with scissors, loves licorice All Sorts, and once scared the hell out of his 2-year old grandson by plunking a Santa hat on his head and booming “ho ho ho” (we have it on video). He is generous beyond belief, devours library books by the dozen and is nearly deaf as a post. His back deck is the world’s largest buffet for the neighborhood birds and squirrels. He is on AOL Instant Message almost every day, and I chat with him every chance I get (it’s easier than shouting over the phone). He has been married to my mother for over 50 years, and has been a steady, stabilizing influence on his three daughters for nearly that long.

What do you get for someone who has done so much? A gift just seems inadequate. So Dad, this column is my gift for you.

Happy 80th Birthday, Dad. I love you.