{"id":43691,"date":"2018-06-15T17:41:19","date_gmt":"2018-06-15T23:41:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/?p=43691"},"modified":"2018-06-15T17:41:57","modified_gmt":"2018-06-15T23:41:57","slug":"fathers-you-must-mark-the-trail","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.crescentcityjewishnews.com\/blog\/fathers-you-must-mark-the-trail\/","title":{"rendered":"Fathers, You Must Mark the Trail"},"content":{"rendered":"

By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cIf Oedipus Rex had taken that kid to the ballgame more often, we wouldn\u2019t have had all that trouble.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

                           — Ancient Greek Historian<\/p>\n

\"\"

My other pal, Randy, and his kid, they get a guide and go fishing up in Michigan. Every year. How much fun can that be? Father, son, and total stranger in a faded mackinaw, huddled around a dying campfire. Picking fish bones out of their plate and wishing there was a McDonald\u2019s around the curve of the stream. Randy, just dying to make some constructive comments about the kid\u2019s wife – but the guide, who\u2019s spitting tobacco in the fire, likes to stay up all night and tell stories about really successful fishing trips – not like this one. \u201cYou shoulda been here in the Summer of \u201892 – Gee Golly!\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, me and my boys don\u2019t shiver around campfires or pontificate over roof design. But we\u2019re plenty close. Don\u2019t we spend hours on the phone talking about their sister – my daughter – who only remembers my birthday if I begin a barrage of postcards \u201cDon\u2019t forget Pop\u2019s birthday\u201d six months early. Me and the boys are pretty close. We talk about stuff like that all the time.<\/p>\n

Fathers and sons. Just like any relationship, there\u2019s a duality involved – the dream and the real world. In the boys\u2019 eyes there are two fathers. FATHER, the Icon; and then there\u2019s Pop, who thinks it\u2019s 1960 and a five dollar bill buys supper and a movie for two. Pop, the champion sleeper who nods off in the living room recliner. He\u2019d be in the Olympics if there was an early to bed category.<\/p>\n

Dad is the large male adult in the house whose happiness is wrapped around economic survival and a synchromatic release of the five-speed clutch in the old, 2004 family Honda. He hates that stone-on-blackboard sound, coming out of the garage when Jr. misses reverse gear. And since he can\u2019t gracefully find reverse or a part time job, Pop wonders if this cub will ever learn to hunt alone.<\/p>\n

But most sons, like wolf cubs, can\u2019t wait to leave the den. There\u2019s a neat parable about a family who lives happily in a modest cabin surrounded by a thick, pathless woods. Beyond the woods is a bright meadow with streams and orchards.<\/p>\n

The father knows that sooner or later the son – energized by an impulse to see the world – will leave the bosom of his family. The father knows about the memorable and honorable rebellion of sons: since a replica of the man\u2019s heart beats in the bosom of the son. He\u2019s been there. Ah, but those woods. Dark, frightening, full of brambles. The boy will never find his way back to the cabin once his restless heart is satisfied.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen you leave,\u201d said the father, \u201cyou must mark your trail because someday you\u2019ll want to return. Don\u2019t forget.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight,\u201d replied the confident youth. \u201cBut why do you always think me a half grown fool who can\u2019t even find his way home and why do you assume I\u2019ll return? The people out there (and he gestured beyond the cabin walls) will think me wise and beautiful. You\u2019ll see.\u201d<\/p>\n

Soon after this confrontation, the boy left. Early in the morning he stole out of his bedroom window and stepped into the impenetrable forest. He brashly rushed through the woods in his eagerness for freedom. At a safe distance followed the father, diligently marking the trail through the dark green woods. Then with a long look at his son briskly striding over the meadow, the father returned home.<\/p>\n

Some days later, the youth returned full of wondrous tales of the woods and the world beyond.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd did you have any trouble finding your way back to us?\u201d asked the father.<\/p>\n

\u201cNone whatsoever,\u201d replied the son. \u201cPiece of cake – the trail is clearly marked\u201d.<\/p>\n

So says the legend. It\u2019s not a bad moral. They all come home sooner or later. But you must mark the trail.<\/p>\n

\"Share