Father's Day

                Another Father’s Day is upon us, Mother’s Day being more than a month in the past. The two holidays by all rights should be celebrated and appreciated in a similar manner. They are not.

                No better illustration of this can be found than in the difference between Mother’s Day brunches and Father’s Day brunches (if you can find one). There is an establishment near us that my family has frequented over the years. It hosts the finest and most elaborate Mother’s Day brunch any of us have ever seen or heard of. There are floral arrangements on diner’s table. There are numerous lengthy banquet tables covered with the finest linen table cloths- as well as delectables of every description. There are two tables just for salads, one for beverages, another for pastries, and several more for various meat, potato and side dishes. There is a center table sporting a grand ice-sculpture as well as two massive silver platters, themselves adorned by two massive whole smoked salmon. Shrimp and other seafood selections abound. Waiters and waitresses come by each table to take special orders and inquire as to one’s need of a Mimosa or Bloody Mary.

                Along the perimeter walls there is a waffle-making station, a prime-rib, ham and brisket station, and a place to procure Eggs Benedict and other egg-based delicacies.

                There is a separate room dedicated to desserts.

                Last year, just out of curiosity, I decided to peek in on this self-same establishment’s Father’s Day brunch. Shocking.

                There were no floral arrangements, ice-sculptures or perimeter stations to be found. There was no separate area dedicated to desserts. There were no desserts. In fact, there were only two bare card-tables in the center of the main dining room. One was the beverage table, featuring water, V-8, and cans of Bud Light. The other sported Pop-Tarts and a toaster.

                One attempt at daddy décor was made. A brace of magazines framed the toaster. On the left was a Field & Stream, on the right a Penthouse. Both were current issues.

                This all seemed a bit unfair to me, but then I had a great dad. My dad not only encouraged me in my writing, but taught me how to be a man.

                The government has taken over the role of father- and husband- now. Rather than teaching boys how to be  men, it is attempting to make them unnecessary.

                Anyway, here’s to you, dad.

                Happy Father’s Day.