Oolong and Oatmeal

So, this one is more of a concept then a thing. Here it is:

Guys do things. Some are stupid. Some a great. As a guy, you (being me) should do them too.

What are these things? You know. All the stereotypical nonsense that dudes do. And some of it is great. And some of it is stupid. And here's the catch, you shouldn't apologize for how great the stupid stuff is. We watch, and care about, sports. We cheer for our favorite teams and are crushed when they don't do well. That's a guy thing to do, so do it.

And I should say, this isn't about, "Oh, it's a guy thing, you wouldn't understand." Not at all. It's about allowing yourself to do things guys do and really enjoy it. It's to not feel bad about thinking a fart is funny, or getting excited about a new gadget or tucking into a really juicy (medium rare please) steak. It's about being a man.

He showed me the things that make being a guy fun and I have taken full advantage of those things.

 

 

So, this one used to really bother me. It's one of those things that dads say that, when they say it, you think, "Nice try buddy. Not me." And then, yes, you.

Here it is: If you hang out in a barbershop long enough, sooner or later, you're going to get your haircut.

Sounds pretty lame. But it's true. Ok, so, I've never really spent that much time hanging out in barbershops, but I think the idea was supposed to carry over into other areas of life as well. 

My dad used to say it in regards to the people I was hanging out with. It'd go something like this:

Dad: So, I hear that So-in-so (Not an actual friends name, I don't know anyone named So-in-so, though, now that I think of it, it'd be a pretty cool name) has started smoking.

Me: Yeah.

Dad: You ever think about smoking?

Me: Who? Me? No. I'd never do anything like that.

Dad: Well, maybe it isn't such a great idea for you to keep hanging out with So-in-so.

Me: Dad, just because he does doesn't mean I will. I think it's gross (no I didn't) and bad for you (I didn't care) and it smells bad ( I loved the smell). I won't start smoking just because he is.

Dad: I don't know, if you hang out in a barbershop long enough, sooner or later, you're going to get a haircut.

And sooner or later (sooner) I got a haircut, er, started smoking or whatever the conversation was about.

This drove me crazy. Here I was, a rebellious teenager who, despite my arguing, was often times torn between two choices. I hated thinking that anything or anyone had that much pull over me. I'd get so upset with my dad for this kind of statement, because, I thought it was insulting. As if these knuckleheads could influence me that much.

But they did.

And it just made me so mad when he was right. It still does. I should look into that.

The thing is, the people we hang out with do have influence over us. Either good or bad. We let them of course, but they have pull over us. How they talk becomes how we talk. What they watch or read or listen to becomes what we're in to too.  We, I, need to be careful who we allow to sway us. We need to make sure the people in our lives are the right kind of people.

I know how that sounds. But I mean the kind of people who are going to make us better. Who will challenge us. Not drag us down. This is not just a teenager issue. Even grownups like Yours Truly need to keep this in mind. We need to remember that we influence others and they influence us.

Don't believe me? Fine. Just keep hanging out in that barbershop.

Let me know how you like your haircut. 

So, I should say, my dad is still alive. I wanted to point that out because I think the title of the post makes it seem like these are things he taught me, and then died. 

But he's still here and he's still teaching me things.

Hope that clears things up. No? Cool.

Anyway, the next thing my dad has taught me is to speak the truth in love.

I know this sounds like a lotta love coming from him after yesterdays post, but there's a difference here. See, my dad is sort of seen as an intimidating guy. He can come off gruff, and kind of like a pitbull.

I did not inherit this from him. No one is intimidated by me, and I hate confrontation. My dad is great at it. He is a straight shooter and he isn't afraid to tell someone the truth. But he always does it with love.

Although he is seen as tough, he's actually really gentle with people. He doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but he does need to tell them the truth. He tempers his confrontations by keeping his words and actions loving. He's telling you the truth because he wants you to do better, be better. He wants to fix a problem and move on.

I tend to be too focused on the love part and can shy away from the truth part. Not that I lie, I don't, it's just that if I think something will hurt someone's feelings I can be persuaded to leave it out. I'm getting better at it, but I'm not good at it.

I also know people that are all truth. They don't speak to others in a kind manner, they just blast them with the truth. I think you need to do both. I think I need to do both.

Speak the truth in love.

So, this weekend is Father's Day. As a dad myself this is a fun day. I like getting to choose some of the things we do for a change.

But I've seen this on some other websites this week and thought I'd steal the idea. Every day this week I'm going to post something my dad taught me. Here's the first one.

My dad taught me to say "I love you." I didn't have one of those dads who never told me he loved me. He told me, and still tells me, all the time. He never held this gift back from me. 

It's amazing to me how many men I've met who never got this from their dads. That stinks. As a teen did my dad saying he loved me when we got off the phone embarrass me? No. Not that I can remember, but maybe I'm being sentimental. Maybe it drove me nuts. I honestly don't think it did, but it probably did. I do know this, a moment of potential embarrassment has been far outweighed by the knowledge that my dad loves me. I've never had to question it.

Here's the point, my dad's generosity with his expression of love for me has taught me that I need to give this gift to my kids, and my wife, too. I never want them to doubt that I love them. I tell them all the time. He taught me that a kid needs to know, needs to hear, that his dad loves him. It gave me confidence and it gave me courage. Heck, it still does.

Gooey? Yep. True? Yep again.