Here’s a few Father–Son tales you might enjoy:
1) The Commune: I had been drafted and sent to San Francisco in 1966 then discharged in 68. There I married Lindsey and enter into the hip life in ‘68’ when we quit our jobs and moved into our first commune. Needless to say, my parents were less than thrilled. In fact, even though we talked by phone a few times a month, they had refused to visit us. That is, until our daughter was born in 1972. Since this was their first grandchild they decided to brave the undertaking to the wilds of hippiedom. At the time Lindsey and I were living in a 4-bedroon 2-story house with an assortment of freeks of other various sex and drug predilections, and the house’s décor reflected that. It had all the usual hippie accoutrements of posters, beaded curtains, incense burners and the always present, ever popular, marijuana plants. Plus, there were statues of foreign gods and strange symbols painted on the walls. A week after Lindsey and our new daughter had gotten out of the hospital my Dad calls and tells me that he and Mom will be up to see the new baby in a couple days. And they have reserved a hotel room so we won’t have to worry about putting them up
In the evening a few days later my Dad calls and tells me he and Mom are in the City.
I ask if he wants me to bring Lindsey and our daughter over for a visit.
He says, no. It’s late and they are tired from the long drive (they live in San Diego) so they will come over to our place tomorrow after breakfast.
I tell my Dad to have a late one because, since we tended to stay up real late, we usually didn’t get up until noon.
He says, okay, they will see us at 12.
Next morning bright and early at the crack of noon Lindsey, the baby and I are awake and waiting when we hear a knock, knock, knocking at our front door. I answer, “Hey, hey, good to see you! Come on in Mom and Dad.”
They enter and we all hug. Then they see Lindsey holding the baby and it’s all over but the crying. They are so happy! Mom takes the baby telling Lindsey what a good job she did and what a wonderful and beautiful baby she is. Dad congratulates me telling me that now I’m a real man with real responsibilities. And it’s a very happy moment between us all. Mom then hands Dad the baby the hugs and kisses me telling me how much she loves me.
I tell them let’s go into the living room where we can all be more comfortable. We do all laughing and talking at the same time. However, as soon as we walk into the living room everything changes. Since I had told our commune mates that my parent’s were coming for a visit, they had all gotten up early to meet them. When my parent’s see all the freeks and the hippie décor they got very wary. And I can’t really blame them either. After all, for the last 6 years the media with all it’s wild sex and dangerous drug stories had portrayed us hippies as evil incarnate. So when they look around at the half dozen or so hippies in various stages of drug induce awareness and weird dress, their smiles leave their faces and they just kind of freeze. I try to lighten the moment by introducing my parents to my friends but I could tell it just isn’t working. My parent’s are nervous and they refuse an offer for some coffee or to sit down on the sofa
After a few minutes of chit-chat my Dad tells me that he and Mom are leaving. He says they’ll be in the City for a couple days and Lindsey, the baby and me can visit them at their hotel room.
I try to get them to stay awhile by telling them that everything’s cool but Mom hands the baby back to Lindsey and they’re on their way out the door. Just as they are leaving, my Dad takes me aside then says, “How can you live like this! Why, you’re no better than a bunch of animals.”
I laugh and agree.
My Dad just shakes his head saying, “At least when you visit us at the hotel, put on some decent clothes.” Then they walk out to their car.
After this my parent’s never again visited me either in San Francisco or Northern California where I lived in a tipi for a couple years. However, we did remain friends by keeping in touch by phone and letter. And Lindsey, the baby and I would go down to San Diego 3 or 4 times a year for a visit. As long as we didn’t do any of our ‘hippie crap” in their home a pleasant time was had by all.
2) The New Girlfriend: I’ve brought my lover Kelly to my parent’s house in San Diego for a visit. Since Kelly and I are living together I wanted to introduce her to my Mom and Dad. And since we’ve been together for over a year now and I’ve told them so much about her they are curious to meet her too. Kelly and I hitch to San Diego then take a city bus to my parent’s home getting there in the early afternoon. Mom and Dad seem happy to meet her and we all chat until dinner time. As we’re having supper I notice that my Dad keep glancing over towards Kelly. I think he must be taken with her and I can hardly blame him either. After all, she is a babe. My Mom seems to be at ease with her too. She and Kelly are having a nice rapport. After dinner we help my Mom with the dishes then retire to the living room to chat a bit more then watch a little boob tube together. Everything is going smoothly until I go to the bathroom. There in the hall, my Dad meets me and asks me about our sleeping arrangements?
When I tell Dad that Kelly and I plan to sleep together he says, “Well son, since you and Kelly aren’t married your Mother and I can’t allow you to sleep together in our house. You know it’s against our morals.”
I tell Dad, that’s cool. We’ll just sleep in our tent in either the back yard or, if that bother’s them, out in the field behind their house.
Dad thinks a moment then says, “Don’t set your tent up just yet. I’ll talk it over with your Mother.”
I tell him that whatever they are comfortable with is okay with me. I tell Kelly about the conversation and she says, “Whatever.” She doesn’t care where we sleep as long as it’s together.
Right before bedtime my Dad takes me aside and tells me that after talking it over with Mom, they’ve decided Kelly and I can sleep together in their house. Even though they do not agree with our lifestyle, still I am their son, and they love me and won’t put me out.
I thank him, hug him and tell him that I love him too.
Since then Kelly and I have stayed with my parent’s in their home a hundred times and we’ve all pretty much gotten along. And even though after our over 20 years together, they still do not believe in our ‘shacking up’ have come to love Kelly too. In fact, whenever I talk to my Dad by phone he always asks how Kelly’s doing then he’ll admonish me, “I hope you’re being nice to little Kelly, son.”
After I assure him I am he says, “You’d better be, because you don’t know how lucky you are to have her.” But I do know, Dad. I do know how lucky I am to live this wonderful life with the beautiful and amazing Kelly.
3) The Dinner: My Dad having just retired, had plenty of time on his hands. So since it was summer and I was living up in the Sierra’s near a very lovely lake with lots of trout streams going in and out of it, I invited Dad, who loves to fish, to come on up and we’d do a little fishing together. He says that sounds good to him and we make plans to meet in a week. I give him directions to a primitive (no fee) campground right on a river where they stocked Rainbow’s twice a week and tell Dad which days to come when he’d be assured to catch his limit.
A week later Dad pulls in with his boat and he’s ready to camp and fish. After setting up camp, since it isn’t a stock day we just hang out enjoying ourselves in the woods. Dad does a little fishing but doesn’t catch anything other than a few sucker’s, which aren’t very edible are fun to catch. Next morning bright and early Dad gets me up and tells me he wants to put his boat in the lake and try his luck there. We drive to the lake then spend the day boating around it, again not catching very much but having a real good time together. We spend the night sitting around a campfire just talking and waiting for tomorrow: stocking day!
Today’s the day. About 9 a.m. up the road comes a big Forrest Circus water truck that’s just chucked full of hatchery Rainbow Trout anywhere from 9 to 15 inches long and just waiting to get caught. Dad finds himself o spot on the bank and lines up with the other fishermen who know the trip. Since the fish have been hatchery raised and know no food other than artificial, and they are hungry after their long journey, it’s Potski’s Balls ‘O’ Fire that they go after. Within an hour Dad has his limit. But he so jazzed about catching the Rainbow’s that he does catch and release for another hour.
Dad proudly shows me his keepers and says, “Well son, I guess we’re have fish for dinner.”
I compliment on his beauties then say, “Dad, since we have more that we can possibly eats, why don’t we share some with old George? He’ll be glad to cook them for us. And eating them in his Airstream will be much more comfortable than eating them here. Plus, we won’t even have to do dishes.”
Dad smiles and says that sound like a good idea to him.
George is a friend of mine that’s my Dad’s age. Except unlike my Dad, who is totally straight, George is an old hippie who lives by himself in his trailer, which is always somewhere out in the boonies. My Dad has never met George before but has heard me talk about him so he is curious to meet him. He asks if George will mind us coming unannounced.
I tell Dad that George always loves company so it’s off we go.
George is camped about 20 miles away on a hilltop overlooking a very picturesque river. We pull in and get out. I introduce George to my Dad. Dad shows the trout to George and asks if he’d lie to share some for dinner.
George says, you bet. He take’s the fish saying he’ll be happy to fry them up. Right away they hit it off. After all, they are the same age and they both grew up in the depression in the Midwest. And they both experienced the horror of World War II. My Dad in the Pacific Theater and George in the European. They spend the rest of the afternoon sitting outside under George’s awning reminiscing. Soon it’s suppertime so we all retire inside the Airstream. George fry’s the trout along with some potato’s and canned corn so a fine dinner is enjoyed by all. After dinner, George whips out his corncob pipe then gets out a baggie of stash, packs the pipe, light’s it and takes a hit. My Dad is sitting there watching this not saying a thing.
George then hands the pipe to my Dad saying, “Would you like a toke?”
Dad looks at the pipe asking, “Is that marijuana?”
George assures him it is.
Dad tells him, “Sorry, but I’ve never smoked it in my life and I don’t intend to start now.”
George laughs saying, “Well, then you don’t know what you’re missing. Sure you don’t want to try some?”
Dad stands firm.
George smiles then hands the pipe to me.
I tell him, “Not tonight George.”
He looks at me like I am crazy because for as long as he known me, he’s never seen me turn down a toke before so he asks, “Why not, Tai?”
I tell him that I’m not smoking out of resect for my Father.
George just shrugs saying, “All the more for me.”
When he finishes the pipe he brakes out some cards and we spend the rest of the evening playing “Pitch” for a penny a point.
It’s getting late. Time to leave. Dad asks George if he’d like to go fishing tomorrow?
George says no but then tells my Dad that he’s welcome to come by anytime for dinner, some cards or just to socialize.
Dad says he just might do that.
They shake hands and we leave. As we’re driving back to camp Dad asks me, “Son, you really don’t smoke marijuana, do you?”
I tell him, “Sorry Dad, but I’ve been smoking pot on almost a daily basis for over 25 years. And as far as I can tell, it ain’t hurt me a bit.”
Dad says, it don’t seem to have hurt me any then he tells me, “But son, please don’t let your Mother know. It would really upset her.”
I promise I won’t tell her.
He then asks if I’d ever smoked marijuana in their house?
I tell him that I never have and I never would.
Dad pats me on my shoulder saying, “That’s good son. Now let’s just forget about it.”
After that, my Dad would visit George whenever he was around and George would smoke his pot while my Dad just ignored it.
4) The Nude: My lover Kelly and I have rented a shack out in the desert for the winter. We were living in our VW Van at the hot springs but it’s been getting kind of crowded lately and this place is cheap so, what the hey! Plus, now that we’re more ‘normal’ my parent’s can come for a visit since they live only about 120 miles away because they would never even consider visiting us out at the hot springs. One day my Dad calls and tells me that he’s doing a little cement work and needs some fine clean sand. I tell him there’s plenty of pure blow sand he can have free, just for the shoveling. He says that Mom and him will be out on the weekend to pick some up.
They arrived and we all have a very pleasant lunch together then my Dad is ready to work. He asks where the sand in located. I tell him out by the hot pools. He’s a little hesitant since he knows the hot springs is a notorious nudie place but then relents because he really wants that sand. So leaving Kelly and Mom at the house, Dad and me venture forth.
When we get there I show him where the blow sand is and we drive up to it. He admits that this is some especially fine sand and we start shoveling it into the back of his pick up. After we’re finished I ask him if he wants to visit George for awhile because he’s parked near the pools.
Dad says, sure. He likes George.
Just as we park and get out by George’s Airstream, Shanti, a completely naked lithe young Indian beauty who’s a friend of Kelly’s and mine that we haven’t seen in a year, comes out of the trailer. As soon as she sees me, she runs up to me, throws her arms around me and gives me a kiss saying how nice it is to see me again. It seems that her and her honky husband have just come out to the hot springs and are planning to stay all winter.
I tell her it’s great to see her again then introduce my Dad. Shanti goes to give him a hug but Dad steps back and puts out his hand. Shanti smiles, shakes his hand and says it nice to meet him. Dad just stands there trying not to drop his gaze and to keep his eye’s on Shanti’s face. It’s a struggle but good old Dad’s morals prevails.
Finally Shanti realizes that she’s making my Dad uncomfortable so she hugs me again saying she’ll see me later then she leaves. Dad is standing there speechless.
I tell dad, let’s go into the Airstream and see George. Instead, Dad turns to me and says, “Buy Tai, that girl was naked!”
I tell him it was no big deal.
Dad says, “But Tai, not only was she beautiful but she hugged and kissed you. And she was naked! What would Kelly say if she saw that?”
I tell him, “Dad, Kelly wouldn’t care. Hell, since almost everyone out here is naked all the time, if Kelly saw a friend of hers, male or female, clothed or nude, she would without even thinking, hug them too. It just don’t matter to us one little bit if we got our clothes on or not.”
Dad shook his head saying, “I just don’t understand you people.”
I tell him, “It’s okay Dad, everyone is different.” Then I laugh and say, “Some of us are just a little more different. Now, let’s visit George.”
Dad still shaking his head says, “Yeah, I guess.” Luckily, George had his shorts and a T-shirt on.
As we leave George’s I ask Dad that since he had never seen the hot pools if he’s like to stop for a look see. I tell him it’s a real pretty place, and just to rib him, that they’ll be lots more naked girls to look at too. Dad turns to me and says, “I think I’ve seem enough for one day, son. Yes, I believe I’ve seen enough.”
I am so lucky. Not only did my Mom and Dad raise me with Love and Kindness but they accept me as I am. And let me tell you, that has not been easy for them. They are after all, completely straight. I’m a full blown freek. They worked all their lives believing in the American dream. I know we live in an oligarchy and have never worked unless I absolutely had to. They neither smoke nor drink, let alone do any drugs other than what’s proscribed for them. I done every illicit drug there is and I drink daily. I only quit smoking cigarettes a few year ago because I started getting angina pains. They believe in a Christian God. I consider myself a Humanist Zen Sufi Taoist with Animistic/Buddhist/ Hindu leanings. But for all are differences we do have some thing’s in common: Acceptance and respect for one another. And above all, Love for each other. I am so lucky to have parents like these. I can only hope that you do too. In fact, why don’t you call your Mom and Dad right now and have a little chat with them, then tell them you Love them. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.