.jpg "Father's Day")
Father's Day
I flew on a magic carpet on Saturday mornings. Sitting in front of the radio, my ear was glued to the set. Let's Pretend was the most popular children's program. I knew all the words to the commercial. Cream of Wheat is so good to eat and we have it every day. It's good for you and it's...." (well, you get the idea.) A narrator took us (all the children of the world) to pretend places with pretend people and everything was good in that world.
On Saturday nights, I listened to Gangbusters and The Shadow Knows. I scared myself before going to bed. I still remember the squeeeeeking door. There were no parental controls on the radio.
Sunday mornings, Dad would tell me about the parade. John Phillip Sousa music would be playing, and he would have the volume turned low.
"Listen," he'd say, "can you hear the parade coming?"
I put my little ear close to the radio console that stood in our living room. He was secretly controling the volume. Sure enough, the sound was faint, and I could hear the band coming from far away. He'd talk about it getting closer and increase the volume. I could almost see the red and white uniforms - the horns, the tubas, the drums. At full blast, we'd know the parade was directly in front of us. And then, decreasing the volume, he'd describe it marching away.
I loved my Dad.
He died in an alcohol-related car accident when he was forty-nine years old. He was the light of my life.
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