That’s why I’ll always stay around
Laid Off Dad | April 14The other night my wife and I had yet another date (I know! Such decadence!) and went to see The Drowsy Chaperone, a new arrival on Broadway. This musical is notable because 1) it’s an evening of inspired lunacy that is consistently funny, and 2) it’s the first time I’ve seen two good friends act in a Broadway show. For those two reasons alone, you should go. Many times.
The story centers around the Narrator, a lonely guy in a shabby apartment who flees his wretched reality by dissolving into the soundtracks of old Broadway musicals. He exhibits the familiar adjectives of a typical Broadway obsessive: acerbic, fey, and hopelessly neurotic and jittery. In one of his monologues, he talks briefly about his young life, and how it changed when his dad walked out. It’s the sort of line that a single man might gloss over completely but resonates with the daddies in the crowd.
The line is delivered with a resignation that suggests he endured a lot of pain before he finally made his peace with it, and even still the rejection has had a lasting impact on his esteem. It makes the Narrator’s story all the more powerful and sad, and the play’s end more uplifting. (Literally.)
A hypothetical thought struck me. What if my sons ever had to talk about the day when their daddy left them? And what if they referred to it so casually, like it was the day the new fridge was delivered? The very idea broke my heart, cementing the thought that fatherhood has made me into a total wuss.
I’ve thought about that ofttimes myself. My father was sent to prison when I was 5 and has been there ever since. It was only recently that I found out the truth behind why he was really incarcerated.
I have two boys, and a baby girl. They’re my heart and soul. Without them, I wouldn’t have a reason to smile; which is why I joke with my wife that on the day I die me and God are gonna have a looooooong talk about postponing my time. i plan on being there for all their special moments
as a theatre person, i love that what most would consider an almost throwaway line, something so unrelated to the main story of the show, can have such an impact. it’s in many ways a fun, fluffy musical, but if we ever needed proof that few things are that simple. (at least, in this case - i haven’t seen it, but i’ve read it, and though it’s fun and fluffy, it’s not vacant or cheap.)
having a couple of friends in the cast, am i allowed to ask who your friends in the show are? i just realized that you sometimes remind me of one of the actors in the show whom i really love - he’s got two sons, and seeing him with them or hearing him talk about them is one of the sweetest things ever.
I never cried at anything before becoming a father. Now I well up at one thing or another probably once a week, usually at stupid shit on the television. Yes, fatherhood has a wussifying effect. Also, it plugs you into the butterfly effect of your every decision, which was always there anyway and I can’t seem to put two words together this morning, but you know what I mean.
Oh, so I am not the only father that has turned into a complete wuss?
There was an episode of CSI, where a child had the same name as my daughter, and I couldn’t even watch it to the end, because I every time the name was mentioned, I saw my daughter in the same situation, and could not endure it.
Your not a complete wuss. My father walked out on my mother and I when I was only a little girl. I’ve seen him a couple of times, but he has a new family with sons and I’m just considered a mistake. Both boys and girls need their fathers to present. It does have a lasting effect on your life if you grow up without one. I was lucky to have my stepdad adopt me when I turned 18. Why did we wait until then. Because my biological father thought the adoption was nothing more than me changing my last name and saw no reason to allow it. I am now 32 my adoptive father is a rock in my life and seeing him cry makes me cry because I know in all the ways that matter and even on my birth certificate he is my dad. That makes me feel whole.
I hear you about the wussification which takes place at the arrival of the progeny. My three-year-old is now tougher than I am.
Maybe it’s the fear of embracing the patriarchal wussiness that is born with the job that separates the Men from the Leavers.
Just a thought.
But a pretty good one, if I do says so.
Couple of weeks ago our daughter went to the carousel and aquarium with one of our very dear friend, part of our plan to get her used to other people besides my wife and I. As i saw her happyly jumping in the car and waving good bye to us, I started sobbing… go figure! She’s two now.
Wish my son was as lucky as yours. His dad walked out when he was 3 (is now 9). My son still makes fathers day cards, what else can he do when everyone else in the class does? But it isn’t a relationship when he turns up once a year for a week then disappears again.
You are all so lucky to have each other. xxx