Father’s Day – this event has probably launched a thousand articles, mine included, so please indulge.
Some say that the oldest profession is prostitution, I say they’re wrong. Being a father is the oldest and I classify it as a profession simply because of my corporate upbringing.
I am a corporate animal and this year I celebrate 20 years of unbroken servitude towards nine companies. All these opportunities with multinationals has propelled me to the top of my craft and the exposure to the world’s top organizations has created a unique creature schooled in the most subtle art of analyzing organization dynamics.
I can dissect an organization’s DNA in my first week of service. Sitting at their cafeteria, I close my eyes and listen to conversations, observe how fast people walk, eat or how they leave their tables (clean or otherwise). I have sat at tables where engineers were so passionate about a new project or an incubated one (Intel). I have also sat with colleagues whose passion is to assassinate the characters of those who don’t dress and talk the corporate line (never mind their name). I can survey the terrain and advice colleagues which projects have a higher marquee value than the rest so their corporate ladders can lean at the right wall. I have counseled countless junior managers/executives to avoid certain bosses whose specialty is throwing flak within a one mile radius.
I have joined countless junior minions nod and laugh at the jokes of a swaggering chief executive who believe the universe revolves around him.
I know my job inside out. Moreover, I know the job descriptions of people under me and people from other departments. But I must confess, the job description of a father is beyond me. It is a craft where I consider myself a rookie even if started almost 16 years ago when my wife conceived our first born.
I am still daunted at the expectations of fatherhood – it starts from the minute your first born’s heart start beating, your confusion as to why your wife suddenly doesn’t like your smell. When she gets over it, you wake up and your life is on hold because any moment now her water bag will explode and so will your wallet. Next thing you know, you are wheeling her to the emergency room. If there was a chance, I would have liked to wheel myself too to the emergency room.
You look at your first born and lo and behold, they do not come with a manual nor a hotline number. The weaning years are your trying years and all the psychology books at raising super kids suddenly do not apply. You say you’ll do better with the second model (your next born) and indeed you get a little better and you swap stories with first timers as if you are an expert. And you repeat the cycle one more time. And so the years pass and your toddlers start schooling and their worlds begin to get shaped by their environment. You wake up one day and you are looking at a boy’s foot bigger than your own and your favorite shorts and shirts vanish regularly from your cabinet. Your daughter’s ear magically transforms to the shape of a telephone.
You also wake up one day and your little experience in writing articles are mistaken as expertise and you are requested by your editor to write on father’s day and this is all that you can come up – a few paragraphs summarizing your career and your rollercoaster ride of being a father.
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Your brace yourself as they seem to start ignoring you even if they tell you they’re listening. All you can do is smile and record the years in your head and heart as these will be the best and will not happen again. Will I be in the Hall of Fame for Best Fathers? I may not be but I know I have done my best to be one and that is all that matters. At least in the mammal world, we can claim that we are one species who despite the temptation, don’t eat their young alive.
Happy Father’s Day! Today we are exempted from washing the dishes, doing the laundry and cleaning the house. Enjoy it while it lasts.
A Tale of Two Fathers
Several weeks ago, Earl Woods, who inspired and molded his son Eldrick into the golfing legend known as Tiger Woods died at the age of 74 after a long fight with cancer. Tiger who announced this news, said of his father -- “I’m very saddened to share the news of my father passing at home early this morning. My dad was my best friend and greatest role model and I will miss him deeply. I’m overwhelmed when I think of all the great things he accomplished in his life. He was an amazing dad, coach mentor, soldier, husband and friend. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him and I’m honored to continue his legacy of sharing and caring.”
Around the same time too, a Dennis Rodman-led US Legends team took on our fancied Pilipinas Basketball Team in a highly hyped exhibition game which the latter won. Dennis Rodman who we wanted to see perhaps even if he was a shadow of the man who helped Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls bag six NBA championship played the role of bad boy to the hilt. He was true to form as he came out with all his tattoos and a brightly colored tuff of cropped hair.
But he was at his best when he snubbed and ignored his father, Philander, who he has not seen for years. The latter watched the game from the stands between two bodyguards. Some would later say that the older Rodman downed several beers as cans were seen under his seat. He became loud and boisterous after the game as he tried muscling his way through to get to his son. He had to be led away by security.
Two sporting legends -- one a basketball rebounding god who is over the hill and whose occasional tiffs with the media and law officers punctuates his fading legacy in the NBA while the other a golf legend who has inspired countless budding golfers, let alone blacks to rise up beyond obstacles. Two different fathers – one has left his son to the elements while the other taught his son not only to read the wind in any golf course but also the winds of life. Two different results – one a novelty and nothing else, the other is a figure of continuous and relentless drive and willpower to win, improve his craft and serve as a powerful role model to all athletes.
Eagle's Eyes
By day, the author is an HR practitioner of a large American multinational company and occasionally can accomplish some meaningful work (according to him).
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