Ode to My Dad

I'm sitting here, with my dad, at his beautiful home in Kennebunk, watching the New England Patriots playoff game thinking a few things:

1. Football viewing has been our tradition for the past 13 years. It's strange to me for these reasons (a) I never played football growing up, so I'm not sure where my love for it stemmed from, I mean, I remember vaguely watching it as a kid, but not as devotedly as I (we) do now (b) I grew up in Lewiston, Maine so I was pretty much born with a hockey stick and skates, even though neither of my parents were athletic themselves, again I don't really know where my love of sports comes from, am I biological inclined to be attracted to them because I was born a boy? I don't know. Sometimes I wish I was born to be musically inclined, instead. Although, neither abilities would have helped me with girls- Maybe I should have wished for more confidence and courage, like the lion (c) baseball is supposed to be America's pastime, but, I would argue that somewhere along the line in the past 20 years or so, football has surpassed it.

Anyway, I can vividly remember watching the Patriots games, after graduating high school, with my dad. We watched as Drew Bledsoe went down that fateful day in September of 2001 and Tom Brady took over the quarterback position, stunning everyone (including me, but I've been a faithful Brady fan ever since). In fact, I will fully admit to having a man-crush on #12.

Football was our bonding time, my father and I. Always has been. It's not just background noise. We watch with a passion, sometimes yelling at the T.V. But, we also use football games as a springboard to have some excellent father-son conversations. Sometimes, I save my thoughts specifically for game days, because I know I'll have my dad around to listen (not that he hasn't listened or heard me when I've had troubles; I'm actually extremely lucky to have a father like him, someone who never missed a single hockey game while I was growing up from when I was 5 until I hung up my skates competitively sophomore year of high school when I told him "it's just not fun anymore." That was one of the life lessons I've always carried with me into adulthood. "When something stops being fun, you shouldn't do it anymore, because it's your life, you should be having fun while you live it." That's why I became a teacher. I can't believe, sometimes, that I get paid to have as much fun as I truly do. He's been there to talk me down from ledges (metaphorically). He's listened, knowing that when I ask to speak I truly have something important to say. I would say that he has been in tune with who I am, as a person, my entire life, but as I grew up and became an adult, I think he was able to see all the trouble was worth it. I can say, with my own sense of pride, that I believe he is genuinely proud of me. I think he knows and recognizes the mistakes he's made in my youth, and I would say the relationship we've built since I graduated high school has been something I will always cherish. He's been there to listen and support me through job changes, living situations, relationships issues (and let's face it, if you know me, there have been a lot of those times in my adult life, and since I wear my heart on my sleeve, I've been "hurt" a lot over the years). My dad has always listened. He's a quiet man who offers his advice and counsel when he thinks I need it. And I listen (most of the time).

We have shared a lot of memories. We've gone to a Patriots game every year since 2000, usually on a bus. I've taken him to several concerts (Dave Matthews Band and Jewel are memorable). We've gone to a couple dozen Red Sox games together, as well as Bruins games. We've been going to Portland Pirates games ever since their inception. We even went on a road trip together, through my college. We shared a bus with 30 other people and traveled the Northeast going to several different baseball parks. It was something I'd always dreamed of doing with my dad, but when it ended I was a little disappointed, perhaps because the experience did not lead to any special'specific father-son moments (i.e. Field of Dreams-esque).

The reason I bring up my dad in this post is because I went to see the film "Lincoln" last night. My father was a history teacher before becoming a well-respected administrator. He's always been a history buff and he read the Abraham Lincoln biography "Team of Rivals" a few years back, which Steven Spielberg based his film on. I've never been one to read historical books, I prefer fiction, but historical movies have always struck me. "Lincoln" is certainly no exception. I absolutely loved Spielberg's "Saving Private Ryan" for its vivid depiction of war on the front lines, and also the beyond the scenes.

What I really enjoyed here was how Spielberg really let the story take center-stage, which is extremely hard to do when Daniel Day-Lewis is the lead actor. The guy simply blows me away in every single role. Here, it was almost like he was born to play Lincoln. And he is the definition of method-acting. He becomes every character he plays, fully committed to the role. He plays Abraham Lincoln as the calm, self-confident, patient and willing man that history has painted him as.  He is soft-spoken, a little hunched, exhausted after the years of war, concerned that no more troops die. He communicates through stories and parables.

The story follows the last few months of Lincoln's life, during which he was petitioning (notice how I chose not to say "fighting" even though it was an uphill battle from the beginning) for the passing of the 13th Amendment which would abolish slavery, which he believed to be immoral. Lincoln was not a well-educated man, but what he lacked in book knowledge, he more than made up for with his intelligence in human nature. And that's what it took to pass the 13th Amendment through the House of Representatives back then. The screenplay really focuses on the details of the story. (Two people actually left the theatre because the story was not moving at the pace they would have liked. I overheard them saying it was "too slow and boring-- I think they really missed the point).

I thought the film could have ended with the passing of the Amendment (oops, spoiler alert, but hey if you didn't know about the 13th Amendment I think you've been living under a rock, or maybe you've been in a coma), but Spielberg chose to continue the story for another 30 minutes or so, and instead ended with Lincoln's assassination, not crucial to the story arc.

Overall, I loved it for the nostalgia it brought to me.
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I woke up this morning with a desire to watch documentaries as part of my project.

I found "When You're Strange" which is a recent documentary about the Doors, which really focuses on the men that made the band and their relationships. Interestingly, it was narrated by Johnny Depp.

Then I watched "Naked Ambition: An R-Rated Look at the X-Rated Industry" which was an interesting look at the porn industry, centralized during the AVN Expo, culminating with their version of the Academy Awards. The documentary focuses its attention on one specific girl in the industry and follows her until the end, at which point you are left kind of rooting for her to achieve her dream (receiving an award at the ceremony).

A couple of short films today and the rest of the day devoted to football and quality time my dad.