I bought myself a Father’s Day present. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Maybe never. But I am enjoying it. It was inspired by a camping trip this week with family members to Big Sur on the Monterey coast in California. Central California is stunning, probably my favorite place in the entire state. It has cypress, pine, oak, and laurel trees along with colorful wildflowers of all kinds. It’s also blessed with maritime weather. Afternoons reach the 70s; evenings are in the 50s.
Camping in Big Sur has become a family tradition replete with swimming, hiking, campfires, s’mores, skimming rocks, storytelling, arguing, drinking, and generally letting loose (see Something Definitely Persists). That reminds me of the joke about the typical Italian breakfast consisting of espresso and an argument. There are a lot of us, so that’s what happens when we get together. We run out of espresso sooner than later.
The grandkids, being kids, made spears to chase each other around the campground. When they found out I carried a pocketknife with a four-inch blade, they asked me to whittle down the tips of their spears. As I did, I thought of all those times in meetings when someone would invariably call something the “tip of the spear.” When the whittling was done, the kids heated the tips in the fire to create a firebrand of sorts. Clever, that. Much more creative than most meetings I’ve been in.
But with all that whittling and sharpening, the blade grew dull. I tried sharpening it with river rock, but the rock wasn’t abrasive enough, which is probably a metaphor for life and ought to give pause. So, as soon as I got home, burned my clothes, and made myself a cappuccino, I ordered a whetstone online. It came in time for Father’s Day, and already I have sharpened every knife in the house. Well, that’s an exaggeration. I’ve sharpened my two pocketknives and a small kitchen knife I use for sundry things like cutting red onions and digging up weeds in the cracks of my driveway. No, I’m not picky.
With my knives sharpened, I am now a happy man. I am free to reflect on the camping trip and my life in general, such as it is. One thing that surprised me is that it took a full day for me to unwind. It’s not as if we were roughing it. After all, the campground had a full bar overlooking the river where I sat one afternoon as the sun sank behind the pines in intimate conversation with a very spicy, very strong Bloody Mary. She knows how to hold up her end of a conversation. But it still took me that long to unwind. I think it’s because I work too much, maybe to a fault. There’s a lot going on, including tap dancing (see The Ties that Bind), other sports, and writing.
I don’t like all that activity. I wouldn’t say it’s unnecessary, but the time and energy normally devoted to being in a committed relationship with another person get channeled into these other things. Sure, I become more efficient that way, but it’s a lonely road. Maybe that’s the real surprise of the camping trip. I may be done with the single lifestyle. The problem is that I’m easy on cars and anything with chrome but rough on people. I tend to wear them out or lose interest. Of course, there’s nothing stopping them from losing interest in me, either. Both have happened.
Admittedly, on the drive down Highway One it would have been nice to share my comedic insight about opening up a nightclub called “Rumble Strip” after driving over them. For those readers who don’t know (I didn’t), they’re plastic strips placed across the lane to slow you down and prepare you for an upcoming traffic light. Do I need to say that they’re thoroughly annoying and have the same effect as wind shear in an airplane? I also thought of a dance studio where you go to class naked. I’d call it “The Dancing Bare.”
Okay, so maybe I’ll stick to knives. Really, as a gift for Father’s Day, who could ask for anything more?
Image credits: Mohamed Hamdi, Casey Horner. Want more? Click on Amazon above right for other publications or go to Robert Brancatelli. Visit other blog readers under “Who You Are.” Leave a comment by clicking on the Comment tab above. Happy Father’s Day to all the dads and granddads in the world (yes, that’s a word).
