Monday, May 16, 2011

This blogs for you Dad. One of the good guys. Happy Father's Day Dad.

It's funny growing up.

My earliest memories are of following what my older brother and father did.

That's what you do when you're that young. You follow the people in front of you, because you don't know any other way.

You keep doing that for a while, and it feels good. When you fall down, they pick you up. Time moves on, time moves fast (it always does).

Adolescence is when you get too cool to follow your dad. You and your older brother get in too many fights in the front yard to really say you follow him.

You pick out people on TV to immolate.

For me it was always a basketball player.

It was Shawn Kemp for awhile. If I had continued following his footsteps I'd be in the 300 club with a reputation for cocaine and women.

You go through high school with a variety of influences pushing you through, guiding you to the next step. Some of the people are great. Some of the people you will remember and keep in touch with. Some you don't.

In the background there he was, guiding with a light hand. Never pushing, but always there waiting in the wings if I were to fall.

Then you get to college. The time of mistakes, short lived glory, mistakes, and education.

In college you try things on your own for a while, not really following anyone.
You're too old to make movie stars and athletes your role models, and still seem too proud to commit to following anyone in particular. You're a boy trying to be a man, succeeding a little, and failing often.

He's still there in the background. Watching. Even when you don't call or write, or don't seem to listen to the advice he offers, he's still there watching and ready to catch you when you fall. He knows you will, because at some point, we all do.

Then I fall.

I fall and he comes and finds me.

Drops everything and comes.

He see's you hurt in more ways than one.

See's the game you've loved and played for years being slowly but so quickly taken away from you.

He mows down everything in his path to get me back to where I need to be.

You see him in action, and you realize that this man is your hero. No questions about it, this is the guy.

You take notes. He gives a little advice, nothing extreme, but somehow every word you soak up like a sponge.

Life moves along. The circus that is college is in it's final year. You take a new approach, with the man that has always been there in mind.
You have some fun, make some memories, and adjust to a new way of life. It's scary and strange, and from time to time things get tough, but you know now where to go when scary and strange happens.
Whether it's a phone call, or just a memory, he lifts you up.


College ends and the real world is here.
You've heard rumors about this place.
But none of those rumors could prepare you for it.
It hits like a ton of bricks.

You're really on your own now. Things change quickly. Friends and relationships that you had for what seemed like forever seem to disappear quicker than how they arrived.

And then things get tough again. You're at another one of those points when you question where your soul is. You go home again.
It's where you need to be. You need to take notes again. You need to see him in action, even if it's just for a day.

You see him. The man he is. The man his father was. You see a man with true grit.
Yeah, just like the movie, True Grit.
He doesn't wear revolvers around his waste. He doesn't drink whiskey for breakfast or hand roll cigarettes, but he has the grit.
With a smile that lights up a room, and personality that could sell a diamond ring to a homeless man, he's a tough dude. He doesn't need to act tough to be tough. Most of the tough one's don't. He just is.


That's my dad. The man who I try and be just like.

It has been a wild ride since I graduated from college. I'm assuming most recent college grads would say the same thing.
Shit, it was a wild ride when I was in college. Lot of ups and some downs. Ah, the downs. The one's where you wake up in the morning and say out loud, "How the hell am I going to do this?"

After a while, you smile to yourself, and think of all the times you have done this.

When you're going through times of uncertainty and change you find the one who knows the playing field. You handle the situations like they would.

Growing up everyone in town knew my dad. He was like a celebrity on the streets of Bangor. It didn't matter if it was the mayor or the bum on the street he used to chum with in high school. It didn't matter who they were, or how they were dressed, my dad always had time to talk.
I got embarrassed. Always having to stop and shake hands and learn new names. I just wanted to go to the gym and play ball, that's all.

I wish I could do that over again. See all the peoples faces when they saw my father. It's so clear to me now as a young man why everyone wanted to stop and talk to him.

Why wouldn't you want to stop and talk to a guy who makes you feel like a million bucks?
Bill Magee is my father, and my hero.
My story is a long one, all of ours are.
We all get hit, we all fall down, we all have highs, we all have days when we wake up and say out loud, "What am I supposed to be doing here?"

We fall down. Sometimes we get knocked down. Then we scramble to stand up. Bill Magee helps me stand, then I move. Hopefully one day just like him.

Happy Fathers Day Dad

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