Fourth of July Letter to My Dad
Dad,
I used to call you 'simple minded.' Your political and moral philosophies could always be summed up in single sentence snipits usually laced with some unambiguous sacerdotal dutifulness.
"This world is goin' to pot if more people don't start goin to church," you would say.
Dad, you never had a problem with self-assured pronouncements. I can still hear you utter in moments of disturb phrases like "that just ain't right," or "people better wake up."
In such a world I grew up. The world for me was alway defined. I often felt a reassuring confidence as a child.
Then I became a teenager. Not unlike others who pass through their 'awakening,' I began to question many things: religion, meaning of life, happiness, love, etc.
Nowadays I am an educated thinking person. Some might even call me an 'intellectual.' By customary definition I am perhaps that; a college educator, a writer... seems to fit the bill. But what of it?
I am different than you dad in so many ways. Yet in one way I am perhaps most different. Frighteningly different! I have sometimes asked myself, 'what do I stand for?' What do I really believe?
To be sure my world is not as black and white as yours' dad. My world is one of ongoing curiosity and exploration. It is a world of uncovering social mysteries and then trying understanding them in some (not always successful) logical way. Truth, though, seems often difficult. And it is always elusive.
To be sure this is all exciting and is certainly what makes a life of pursued learning interesting. But at the end of the day can I honestly answer questions like; who should I really vote for? ...or, was Bill Clinton wrong?...or, is it worth the fight?
The intellectual's answer, by default, is always "it depends," which is certainly ambiguous at best. As such life is often like is a roller coaster without climax. There is then a certain 'nakedness' about the "intellectual life." We often have a sense of exposure. It is a sort of 'I'm cold but I can't put on cover because the wind might blow it off' mentality.
Needless to say dad, I have formulated some certain truths about life, in part thanks to you. For example, in my composition I know that love, honesty, and friendship are of the highest order. There is a sort of organic and natural transparency about these that have to be carefully and tenderly guarded. Perhaps it is parenthood that has forced me to better focus. For young children, as you knew of course, seek a 'defined' world of answers and clarity and depend on their parents for such.
But back to those questions. Dad, you could answer them with a resounding confidence. There was never a doubt about design, purpose, the order of things, about right and wrong in your eyes.
More recently I began to ask myself another question, larger than perhaps any of the others. And today on this July 4th I think I have the answer.
The question is this: who would have made a better soldier dad, you or me?
Our nation at its best is defined by people like you. Unbending and resolute were the millions of young men who marched off to defend their country in Asia, Africa, and Europe. You served as a radar operator in the Phillipines in World War II. Like all the others you were fullfilling your duty to defend an idea that you knew was right.
Every so often a war comes along that eventually defines a generation. Dad you were part of the "Greatest Generation." This July 4th I salute you. So little have you spoken of the events of 60 years ago, but I know that you are sure and proud of what you did.
Rest assured that your pride is only surpassed by my pride in you dad.
Dutifully and Unambiguously,
Your Son
I used to call you 'simple minded.' Your political and moral philosophies could always be summed up in single sentence snipits usually laced with some unambiguous sacerdotal dutifulness.
"This world is goin' to pot if more people don't start goin to church," you would say.
Dad, you never had a problem with self-assured pronouncements. I can still hear you utter in moments of disturb phrases like "that just ain't right," or "people better wake up."
In such a world I grew up. The world for me was alway defined. I often felt a reassuring confidence as a child.
Then I became a teenager. Not unlike others who pass through their 'awakening,' I began to question many things: religion, meaning of life, happiness, love, etc.
Nowadays I am an educated thinking person. Some might even call me an 'intellectual.' By customary definition I am perhaps that; a college educator, a writer... seems to fit the bill. But what of it?
I am different than you dad in so many ways. Yet in one way I am perhaps most different. Frighteningly different! I have sometimes asked myself, 'what do I stand for?' What do I really believe?
To be sure my world is not as black and white as yours' dad. My world is one of ongoing curiosity and exploration. It is a world of uncovering social mysteries and then trying understanding them in some (not always successful) logical way. Truth, though, seems often difficult. And it is always elusive.
To be sure this is all exciting and is certainly what makes a life of pursued learning interesting. But at the end of the day can I honestly answer questions like; who should I really vote for? ...or, was Bill Clinton wrong?...or, is it worth the fight?
The intellectual's answer, by default, is always "it depends," which is certainly ambiguous at best. As such life is often like is a roller coaster without climax. There is then a certain 'nakedness' about the "intellectual life." We often have a sense of exposure. It is a sort of 'I'm cold but I can't put on cover because the wind might blow it off' mentality.
Needless to say dad, I have formulated some certain truths about life, in part thanks to you. For example, in my composition I know that love, honesty, and friendship are of the highest order. There is a sort of organic and natural transparency about these that have to be carefully and tenderly guarded. Perhaps it is parenthood that has forced me to better focus. For young children, as you knew of course, seek a 'defined' world of answers and clarity and depend on their parents for such.
But back to those questions. Dad, you could answer them with a resounding confidence. There was never a doubt about design, purpose, the order of things, about right and wrong in your eyes.
More recently I began to ask myself another question, larger than perhaps any of the others. And today on this July 4th I think I have the answer.
The question is this: who would have made a better soldier dad, you or me?
Our nation at its best is defined by people like you. Unbending and resolute were the millions of young men who marched off to defend their country in Asia, Africa, and Europe. You served as a radar operator in the Phillipines in World War II. Like all the others you were fullfilling your duty to defend an idea that you knew was right.
Every so often a war comes along that eventually defines a generation. Dad you were part of the "Greatest Generation." This July 4th I salute you. So little have you spoken of the events of 60 years ago, but I know that you are sure and proud of what you did.
Rest assured that your pride is only surpassed by my pride in you dad.
Dutifully and Unambiguously,
Your Son
