Nothing to Fear but Two Weeks on the Road

[So, Dad beat me to the punch with regard to this whole trip to Glacier National Park idea. When Mom told me on Angel Island that Dad was planning a solo trip thither, alone in a car and in a campground for almost two weeks in the middle of August, my first thought was, "I should ask to go, too."]

[My employment situation starting August 1st is murky (or, if you prefer, totally bleak), and there really couldn't be a better time to get outta Dodge for a fortnight. I might've chosen any number of destinations before Glacier, but that's just my narrowness; I'd love to see the place. There are two sticking points. I'm calling them "Dad," and "Dad." (If this were Aaron's bailiwick, maybe I could go with "Daddy" and "Daddo," but I've got just the one father, and he'd agree that he's plenty.)]

[The first problem, "Dad," is that in the midst of the very same phone call during which he sort-of invited me, he said that job-hunting needs to be my top priority, and that if a. I haven't found a job, then I shouldn't go because I need to be looking every waking minute, and b. I have found a job, I'll be working, and so can't go. (Many of you will be asking what business is it of his whether I have a job? We're a close family, and I've made it their business.) My dad has an air of the logician about him (the first adult game I remember about the house was this dreadfully complicated assemblage called, I think, "Whiff n' Proof" ; haha, Mensa-type humor), but there are logical lacunae in this whole conversation, the salient points of which I've just wrung out for you.]

[My answer to all of the above was the reasonable and (I thought) forward-looking point, viz., in twenty years, which will I regret more: one more forgettable month of unemployment, or not taking a once-in-a-lifetime trip somewhere like Glacier with my father? It's pretty obvious when you look at it as, say, Mrs. Garrett on The Facts of Life would have done.]

[The complication (and the reason you don't hear extremely tinny, canned applause and the legend "Directed by Asaad Kelada" - too obscure, Max?) is the second problem, "Dad." It might explain the phone call, and certainly explains why I haven't yet decided whether to go. A better label for it would be "Dad and Bill," or "Father-Son Relationship Dysfunction Model K," because I know we're not unique. I think we're both scared of spending that much time together.]

[Dad did a great thing last December, inviting me to go for a drive up the Marin coast. I've been wondering for over seven months how to follow up, how to take the next step to creating a better relationship. That's what he was trying to do, and I was so happy. I decided then that he liked me, he really liked me, which for lots of reasons wasn't a foregone conclusion. (And I like him, same thing in reverse.)]

[But it's been thirty-six years, and one day together never was going to undo all the bad habits two family members can establish between them. What will we say to each other during all those hours in the truck? What if we get into such a dispute...no, that wouldn't happen, but there are going to be unpleasant moments; it's the way we're wired.]

[We lead very different kinds of lives (Dad at 36...well, I wonder if he'd ever met someone like I am at this age), and I find it difficult to translate between them. Beyond that, I haven't told him or Mom several key facts about myself, though it's even money some of those facts aren't as hidden as I think. There's this site, for example, and Dad can Google; the parent of a good friend lurks here sometimes, I think...why not him? Is this when I have a lot of 'splaining to do?]

[I'm scared, he's scared (I think). Do the thing you're most scared of, is that the phrase?]

[(Yes, I know I'm lucky to have a Dad alive, solvent, genial, married to Mom, and willing to take this step. Many of my friends don't have any of it. All I can say we all have our troubles, and comparisons are odious.)]

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