When Choosing Dad’s Gift, Remember What Father Knows Best
W hen you were stuck for a creative Father’s Day gift as a kid, you had the option of whipping him up an ashtray in shop (if you were a son) or springing for a really bad tie (if you were a daughter). And you could always be sure that he would dutifully fawn over these trinkets and praise you for your bottomless thoughtfulness.
But now that you’ve grown up and have come to realize that he burned the tie in the ashtray and used the ashtray as a prop for his soldering gun, where does that leave you in the Father’s Day gift bonanza? Is there a way to make a sure-fire hit?
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HE: Most men have at least one great extracurricular passion, and you can’t go too far wrong if you home in on that. That graphite-shafted driver he’s been drooling over in Golf Digest. Monogrammed fuzzy dice for his ’34 Ford. Angel tickets. A box of Upmann double coronas.
Of course, if his consuming passion has anything to do with leveraged buyouts or Vegas showgirls, you might want to stick with the ashtray.
SHE: My daughters like the “Date with Dad” concept. They each present him with a lovely card that spells out a date they plan to take him on. Most often it’s a dinner and movie combo. Sometimes it’s lunch, sometimes a ballgame.
They began that, when, after years of asking him what he wanted for Father’s Day, he would say: “Don’t go spending any money on me.”
My sons usually buy him a great looking golf or sweat shirt, something casual and not too expensive (they know he’ll return it if he thinks somebody has spent too much).
I try to cook his favorite meal. And we all make sure we tell him he’s the world’s best dad.
HE: Because Father’s Day always falls on a weekend, tradition should dictate that dad can officially do anything he wants for the entire 48 hours. This means that if he wants to drag the entire family to the tractor pulls, they have to go along cheerfully.
This also means that if he wants to sag into the La-Z-Boy, surrounded by a thicket of carcinogenic junk food and cheap, gassy beer, and watch the tractor pulls on 24-hour cable, the family is honor-bound not to nag, rag or pester him in any way. In fact, they must be solicitous and servile until midnight Sunday.
SHE: That’s what you think . I can tell you’re not a daddy yet, ol’ boy. It’s a humbling experience. As a pop on Father’s Day, your children surround you with their humble gifts and you turn into a blob of Jell-O. You’d do anything for them: cut back on smoking and swilling, even give up a day to watch the tractor pulls (the tractor pulls?).
He holds court on his La-Z-Boy, at once king of the house and slave to all he surveys. Just you wait.
HE: I admit I’m coming at this thing from a rather uninformed, hypothetical and oblique angle, but where does it say that kids have to bring humble gifts? If I’m going to send the little hellions to USC, I want bribes. Big ones. Really big ones. I want lots of bowing and scraping and salaaming. I want a big box of Upmann double coronas (remember them?) and a big limo to smoke them in on the way to Vegas. I want a four-star dinner on the Concorde.
But, what the heck, I guess I’d settle for an ashtray.
SHE: Or a tiny handprint served up on white plaster. Or a crayon drawing of you looking like Jack Benny instead of you. Or a calendar with July spelled Julie . Or a bag of M & M’s tied with old Christmas ribbon.
The important thing is to let the child give you what he or she has to give. Nothing more. When they’re young, children give from their hearts and their talents. When they’re older, they think digging deep into their pockets is the answer. Uh-uh. Dads want love, respect, laughter and a belly full of good food on Father’s Day. Little more.
HE: You mean I can’t go supersonic to Paris? Bummer. Well, then, how about this: There are three places in the O.C. area where any kids of mine (boy, does it ever feel strange to write that! ) could always score a hit. One is the UC Irvine bookstore, where good classical CDs are preeminent. Another is the Suncoast Motion Picture Co. at MainPlace/Santa Ana, where one day I hope to find a tape of “The Reivers” with Steve McQueen. Finally, in Long Beach, there’s Acres of Books, where good finds are routine.
SHE: Another great gift idea is a home video featuring times with Dad. A family would have to plan that one in advance--get candid shots of Dad all year long--but I can’t think of a greater family treasure. Think of how Pops would enjoy that after the kids have left home.
Another idea: a framed picture of Dad and his child for the office.
The more personal the gift, the better. What Dad doesn’t need is one more striped tie, faux alligator belt or dress shirt.
