Your favorite Dad memory.

[congodwarf]

My parents divorced when I was 3 and I immensly dislike my dad. I have seen very little of him which is fine with me. I never felt like I was missing something by not having a father. I will say though, my father is an excellent writer, artist and musician. For a short while, before his religion took over and squashed all his creative ambitions, he published a magazine devoted to supernatural type stories. My father and grandmother and some other random writers all had stories. I can honestly say that my dad’s stories are what led to my enduring love of the supernatural.

Even though this is a father’s day thread, I hope you don’t mind if I add my favorite grandpa memories. He has always been like a father to me and is the reason I never felt like I missed out on the whole “dad” thing.

My favorite “dad” moments with him have always just talking to him. Whenever I visit him, we will spend hours talking about life, problems and history. He tells me stories about my ancestors and his time in the military. Even though he only finished high school, he seems to understand everything. He explains science and literature and especially politics - in a way that makes me understand and enjoy the discussions. If he’s writing a column when I visit, he explains the subject and his reasons behind them (he writes the liberal side of a point-counterpoint type column). He never assumes I wont understand or wont be interested. He will sometimes pull out his scrapbooks and show me old articles or opinions he’s written, awards he’s received, and momentos from his children’s and grandchildren’s achievements. He tells me what they’re all for and the pride he shows would make you think they were his own successes. He’s also always interested in what is going on in my life. He gives advice like a father would. The added bonus is that he has so many more years of experience than my own father and so much more world knowledge.

So, even though he’s not my dad, my grandpa has always filled that role and I’ll always be grateful. I dread the day he passes because it means I’ll never hear his deep soothing voice telling me wonderful stories.

[dnooman]

[QUOTE=5que]
Chasing down spotlights in the sky. You know those spotlights for car dealership sales and such? We’d go out in the car and try to track down the location based on watching the light in the sky.
[/QUOTE]

My Dad and I did that too. Amazing how magical such an experience can be when you’re young.

My favorite moment with my Dad was one day when he took me and my brother to his coworkers house to shoot some guns. We shot a .45 magnum rovolver, a 30-06 rifle, and several other types, we went back to his coworkers and had awesome burgers. His coworker took us on wild rides on the back of his dirtbike, through the woods. :eek:

The best part though, was when we went to find a campsite in the desert-like terrain nearby. My Dad, myself, and my brother all had handguns on us. I was maybe 13 or 14, my brother was 8 or 9 and probably didn’t have a loaded gun. My Dad was a pretty safe guy, his motto was “Safety first”. So, we’re walking to our campsite. Once we get out in the open, very, very far away from anyone or anything, my Dad says “What was that!?”

My brother and I kind of squat down and look back and forth. Dad says “There!” and points at a group of cacti. I didn’t see anything move, but I saw the formation of cacti he was pointing at. I asked what it was, and Dad said “Coyote maybe, just shoot it!”

I pulled out the loaded Luger (in retrospect it could have been a Ruger), and emptied the clip into the cacti.

What a rush! Dad said “I think you got it!” I asked if we should check it out, and he said we’d better just keep moving in case there were any others around.

It only took a few minutes to realize, that he was just giving me a chance to play the gun-toting hero. Knowledge of that, had absolutely no affect on the ego boost he had given me.

I love my Dad.

[Anastasaeon]

I remember being about seven years old, and my Dad asked me to come out to the front of the house with him one clear night. He got me to look up at the stars, and he taught me my first constellation: Orion the Hunter. He then proceeded to show me the Big Dipper, Little Dipper, the Seven Sisters, the Milky Way… I was amazed. I had seen all of these in books before, but this was the first time I’d ever seen them, for real, in front of my eyes. They had always been a big mess of stars to me before, no matter how carefully I studied the stars in the big atlas. The dots weren’t connected, or necessarily brighter, like the ones in the books showed. But when my Dad showed me those three stars on Orion’s belt for the first time, something fell into place for me. I will never forget that night; The Night the Stars Made Sense. I was instilled with a sense of wonder, awe, and felt very, very tiny in the world. There is so much out there, so much. The world, the universe, is so much bigger than I can ever know. And that’s okay. Today, whenever things get rough, or I’m feeling down, no matter where I am in the world, no matter how far from my family, I can just look up at the night sky and find Orion’s belt, and feel okay. My Dad did that for me.

He also instilled in me a love of motorcycles, punk rock, dry wit, horrible puns, and Mystery Science Theater 3000. He’s awesome.

[kambuckta]

My dad was not a presence in my life during my childhood years (for various reasons, one of which was his alcoholism) but in my late teenagehood, I began to see him on occasion.

At around age 19, when I met the Love of my Life, I took him to meet my dad. After shaking hands with the LOML, he offered him a beer, which the LOML accepted happily.

This disturbed my dad no end, so he then offered him a glass of whisky, which the LOML was not averse to either.

But my dad poured the whisky into a 7oz glass…full to the brim. :eek:

“That’ll keep yer’ boyfriend away from me’ beer for a bit then won’t it!!”

And alas, that is one of my favourite memories of him.