A Father's Advice

By Horace J. Digby

Yesterday I saw a five-year-old with his father in tow, buying school supplies—crayons, pencils, rulers, protractors . . . a slide rule . . . "I need one of these too, Dad," the boy kept saying.

Thirteen years earlier that was my son and me, although, I don't recall buying Horace Jr. a photocopier (preschool is a lot tougher these days).

Last week, Horace Jr. left for college. Of course that meant a father-son talk. Not "The Talk." We did that years ago on stage at the Columbia Theater.

Me: Let's have a little talk.
Horace Jr.: "The Talk?"
Me: Do you know what I mean when I say, "The facts of life?"
Horace Jr.: Oh. You want to go to the horse races again . . .

This time we found a bench on campus. "Son," I said, "there are a few things I'd like to share with you."

Horace Jr. was alert. His pupils enlarged. He was interested.

"Sure Dad. What do you have in mind?" This was an important moment.

"First of all, Son," I said, "oak has visible grain."

Horace Jr. looked surprised. So did I. What sort of father-son talk was this? I don't even do woodworking.

"Silk clings to your finger tips as you brush over it." What? I had to know more about life than this. But I plowed ahead, grasping for something meaningful.

"Cotton breathes, but it wrinkles, although wool holds its shape." That's when I quit. Next I'd be telling him how to tie a four-in-hand, or pack a sports coat. I was becoming a butler.

My son looked incredulous.

"I know." I said. "I'd like to be profound . . . but, I think this is all I know."

"That's it?" Horace Jr. demanded. "I've waited eighteen years, to learn about laundry?"

"And oak!" I said.

"What about relationships? What about finding the right person? What about spirituality, or at least parallel parking?"

"Keep lights and darks in separate wash loads." It just came out, like Tourette's syndrome, only less interesting.

"Just fine," Horace Jr. said. "My roommate learned about stock trading. Tad's dad showed him how to survive in the wilderness. I was expecting at least some job advice, or warnings."

"Warnings? What warnings?" I asked.

"How should I know? You're the dad. Don't you know any warnings?"

"Turn your wheels toward the curb when you park." I blurted out.

"Sheesh!"

Horace Jr. was right. He deserved more. This stuff was lame, but my mind was blank. This happened last year when I needed ideas for that column about Mt. St. Helens. I finally held a contest . . . Hmmm . . .

Last year Craig Z. Azaluen took first place with a plan to move Mt. St. Helens to Kansas. This year, it could be you. Just come up with some great father-son advice for Horace Jr. First prize will be dinner and a movie for four, at the Kelso Theater Pub.

All you have to do is send your best tip, bit of advice, or life lesson, to Horace J. Digby at hjdigby@lexingtonfilm.com, or mail it to the Columbia River Reader, P. O. Box 1643, Rainier, OR 97048

Your entry will be judged on originality. It doesn't even have to be funny (although my next column will be better if it is). How about that?

-- Horace J. Digby
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