Not too long after man first walked on the Moon, I thumbed a ride with a tile salesman who couldn't wait to get home to spend time with his kid.
He'd never welcomed parenthood, he confessed, saw it as an imposition. Then, one day, on an impulse or maybe following some primal instinct, he nailed a fruit box to a plank, whacked on a set of pram wheels and handed his boy a billycart. The dad thought no more of it until the following weekend when he was down on his haunches changing a mower plug behind the driveway gate from where he could overhear a couple of the street kids admiring his son's home-built creation.
"Did your dad really make that for you?" asked one, sceptically.
"Sure did," said the kid.
"Wow!"
Then, almost as if speaking to himself, the son said softly: "My dad's just the best dad."
Those few words reduced the dad to jelly. He knew in his heart he had been anything but the best. Truth be told, he hadn't even wanted to be a parent. What he didn't know then is that all kids start out with their dads on a pedestal. Only our foolishness makes them see us later with feet of clay. Right there, with the two-stroke oil on his hands and tears in his eyes, he made a silent vow to be the dad his boy deserved.
In those long-ago Norman Rockwell days of billycarts and black-and-white television, fatherhood had seemed such a straightforward gig. When Mum's scolding failed to rein 'em in, "Wait until ya father gets home" usually did the trick.
The world's a different place now. Still, somewhere in this time of 45 per cent marital failure, working mums, fatherless kids, same-sex couples, IVF and blended families, we have at last realised that good dads are important. Maybe more important than ever.
Australian author, activist and psychologist Steve Biddulph has done more than almost anyone to highlight the special role of fathers in both boys' and girls' lives.
His books Raising Boys and Manhood stress the importance of dads being close and involved with their children. For all those dads stepping into a new Father's Day wondering about their worth, he has a clear message.
"Dads need to know that their job is vital, that there are some things that only dads can do," he tells Weekender.
"With sons, it means being involved, from babyhood, in playing, teaching and caring, but especially in the years from six to 14 when boys look to dads for help in what kind of person to be. A dad who is loving, reads stories, plays active and physical games, actually makes boys safer and gives girls higher self-esteem."
If contemporary life has bent the traditional concept of fatherhood slightly out of shape, it is not all bad news. The old notion of the career-obsessed dad arriving home just in time to kiss freshly bathed kids a brief "good night" wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Often as not, it spoke of the absent dad, a remote figure leaving too early and returning too late.
Biddulph: "When I recently revised my book Raising Boys, I discovered there had been a remarkable change in fathering behaviour in 20 years young dads had increased the time spent with children by 300 per cent.
"This means a new generation of young men are much closer to their children than their fathers were. It's evident any time you go shopping or to the beach or a park, there are dads pushing strollers, playing and cuddling kids. It's hard to believe that this was once a rare thing, and actually frowned upon."
When art curator Brett Adlington became a dad for the first time seven years ago, he stumbled on a bit of wisdom that captured the profound change to his existence.
"It said that having a kid was 50 times harder then you imagined but 100 times better," he recalls. "It proved to be true."
As a young dad living on the Gold Coast, Brett elected to stay at home in order for his wife Natalie to continue her career.
Then collecting their elder son from school he noticed how many other young dads were picking up their children.
"It seemed that they were understanding that their partners had important careers as well," he relates.
It was a seismic shift worth documenting. Two years after moving to Newcastle, coinciding with Father's Day 2009, he finds himself as exhibition curator for Family Guy. Currently showing at Lake Macquarie City Art Gallery, it tackles the role of the male in response to the shifting nature of contemporary family structures.
The exhibition catalogue contains a gem of an essay from Newcastle University's Dr Richard Fletcher, convenor of the Australian Fatherhood Research Network. He writes, in part: "There is a volume of research now demonstrating that the way that fathers do things with their children has a major effect on how well the children flourish and develop their potential. Biology, we now agree, may not be destiny but it is not irrelevant either. By extension, men's role in families is not simply a matter of fashion and taste and political expediency; fathers, brothers, uncles, pops and sons are blood-related identities and the way we work them into our institutional and cultural thinking about family will affect all of our futures."Barry and Moira Boettcher have chosen a sparkling Saturday morning to visit their son Craig, daughter-in-law Kellie and grandson Beau, newly turned one. In this instance, Boettcher senior isn't the distinguished Professor of Biological Sciences or even the world-acclaimed forensic scientist. Instead, he is just "Dad" turning up to bond with his son's young family and lend his fatherly knowledge to the construction of a garden wall. In so many ways, it is history repeating: Barry Boettcher learned such skills at the side of his blue-collar dad who had worked hard for a better future for his offspring. Moreover, Craig has just returned from the world swimming championships in Rome where he served as physiotherapist to the Australian team. The three weeks was his longest time away from Beau.
"I tell people I saw his first two steps, but they were pretty dodgy," he laughs. "So, by the time I got home he was walking."
Barry understands distances and the importance of family connection. His brilliant career regularly took him far from home, on one occasion to the Arctic Circle to study the Inuit diet. Despite a crowded working life, he and Moira gave their four kids Karl, Todd, Kristine and Craig their very best.
As Craig says, the choice for all budding dads is to either replicate or reject the example set by their own fathers.
"I want to use Dad's example," he affirms. "If I could be the same as Dad, I'd be very happy. He's not your conventional academic; he's done hard, physical labour and he's just as comfortable chatting with a bloke about the taste of a beer as he is discussing the meaning of life with a physicist.
"He can build a fence, rebuild a car engine and sit in a lab and do high research. I admire that about him."
Craig, who has travelled widely in his profession and owns and operates a large physiotherapy practice, believes the confidence to take on life comes from foundations established by good mentoring.
"If you've got the emotional support at home it allows you to feel comfortable about pushing the limits. There are things like financial and material support, but more important than that is building the confidence to achieve what you put your mind to."
On sabbatical in Denmark in 1976, Barry Boettcher copped a glimpse of the future.
"It had yet to make such an impact on Australia, but the incidence of single-parent families was so evident in Denmark in those days that our daughter would bring her tiny friends home to play and they would clutch on to the legs of my trousers. It was quite obvious they were looking for a male figure."
He didn't mind because, by then, he had realised that, be it fathers, uncles or family friends, children can draw value from all positive male role models. Those who don't know him well enough would hardly short-list larrikin jockey Allan Robinson for father of the year.
His own kids, Maddi, 12, and Jye, 9, plus an army of their mates would soon set them straight. The bloke everybody calls Robbo is a regular at their school, helping out with sports and other activities. Jye's mates who don't have dads at home flock to his dad and Robbo regularly includes them in his own family activities.
"They say to me, 'I wish I could have you as my dad' and I say to them, 'Well, you can if you like the only difference is you don't have to live with me'. Then I tell them if there is something they need to know that they can't ask their mum, they can ask me."
One of four brothers, Robinson rates his own dad, John, as his biggest influence on how to be a man.
"He worked two or three jobs at a time just so we could have a bike each," he recalls.
When single dad Mark Dunsdon perished in a Bonnells Bay house fire in July, Robbo and his own kids befriended Mark's four sons Zac, 9, twins Talon and Marcus, 8, and Solomon, 7, taking them to the football in Sydney and co-opting businesses to donate household goods.
Mark's tragic end had been the last straw in a series of family calamities that had included the failure of his marriage and a trail-bike accident that left him partially blind and suffering seizures. A week or so before Father's Day, Robbo helped organise and co-host a star-studded charity night that realised $48,474 for the boys.
For Robinson, hardly one to read texts on the subject, being there for dad-less kids is pure instinct. But he could be easily channelling the experts.
Dr Richard Fletcher is familiar with the way dads step in: "It's not that hard to find heroic fathers, really it's not. You only have to go to the places where mothers or babies or children are in strife to see men taking on huge loads."
Steve Biddulph: "It's important that we dads who have sons sometimes invite their friends, who do not have dads, in doing things like picnics, concerts, sports and camping that we take our own sons on. We need to reinvent uncling as an important role. You don't have to be a real uncle, just a caring and constant figure that lets a boy know he matters."
As philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said: "When one has not had a good father, one must create one."
David Helmers, 42, of Waratah, is the chief executive of the Australian Men's Shed Association, a national network involved with the promotion of men's health and wellbeing. With their origins in Newcastle, the "Shedders", says Helmers with quiet pride, are now the largest men's association in Australia.
The concept of the shed as a haven where men can share time, friendships, knowledge and confidences is an Australian institution that is definitely making a comeback.
"When a bloke goes to visit his mate, they go to the shed," he explains. "I spend more time in the shed than I do in the house. The kids know where to find me."
In rolling the shed idea into a grassroots national movement, the Shedders have become campaigners for men's health and promoting the value of men within the community. Late last month Shedders from all around Australia travelled to Tasmania for the association's third national conference.
"What we're aiming to prevent is the social isolation which is one of the biggest factors affecting men's wellbeing across a whole range of issues including mental health."
Helmers reckons most of the worthwhile things he knows about being a male he learned during the 17 years he spent working beside his dad, Bart, who ran bakeries in Maitland.
Helmers may well typify the 21st century dad. Married to Aldine, he is step-dad to twins Mathew and Katy, 16. The arrival of baby Billy three months ago motivated David to get moving to complete a three-year home renovation project.
Of late, he's noted that Mathew has been heading for the shed to start work on his own projects.
"I go out there and there's tools everywhere," Helmers laughs. "I guess I was pretty much the same when I was his age."
He suspects that, in a world full of distractions for families, it's harder to pass on good male values than it was a generation or so ago.
"It's a different world today, but we still have to learn from the past because we sure can't learn from the future."
Growing up in a family business, Helmers says, provided a great environment to learn from an older role model.
"More through action than words, my dad taught me the value of a good work ethic if you don't do it nobody else will, and the wisdom of doing it once and doing it properly. You really value those lessons when you learn them the hard way."
Times have changed. He identifies how today's busy existence makes it hard for families to find quality time. Part-time jobs for teenagers, combined with seven-day trading often means that weekends, especially Sundays, are no longer family time. With dads working an average of 47 hours a week (not counting the time spent travelling to and from work), a cornerstone of family life is feeling the strain.
Then there are the dads who rarely see their children at all. As many as one household in five is existing without the presence of a father figure. Separated fathers are more vulnerable to alcohol and substance abuse, loss of productivity in the workplace and are 13 times more likely to commit suicide than their ex-partners.
Steve Biddulph has written at length about the difference a good dad can make. Kids with dads living at home tend to fare better at school, score better for compassion, empathy and self-esteem, are less prone to anti-social or violent behaviour, less likely to be victims of violence or sexual abuse, less prone to drug abuse, unplanned pregnancies and suicide, and have a better chance of making happy marriages and becoming good parents themselves. The psychologist argues that this can still be achieved even if parents are separated, providing the dads and mums are respectful towards one another.
Dr Richard Fletcher reckons dads who give and give aren't hard to find.
"If you just look around, you are sure to find a dad who sacrifices large chunks of himself, his time, his health, his interests for the sake of the kids. On the other hand, it's also very easy to hear about appalling dads."
Steve Biddulph acknowledges the reality of the dead-beat dad.
"Some fathers are non -existent, or a disaster. [But] at least now we know what is needed. We have to provide alternate mentors and stable figures, at school or in each neighbourhood.
"Without male elders, boys drift into gangs, violence, and dangerous ways of proving their manhood. They often do not learn how to behave well to girls, so that everyone is endangered. George Bush's dad was an absent father. Adolf Hitler's dad beat him very violently. Dads are crucial to a healthy society."
Like many modern dads, Merewether artist John Earle is a second-timer with one child by his first marriage and two by his second. He is grateful for the role of "interested and engaged" mothers in the raising of Miranda, now 28, Elvis, 19, and Angelica, 15.
"The mothers have been the greatest influences. I can't take much of the credit at all. I had a bit of a go at shaping the kids but, early on in the piece, they told me to sit down, relax and mind my own business; they would be OK. And they were right."
But the artist readily acknowledges what his children have given him the joys of fatherhood.
"We're all quite alone in this world. That's why we go looking for a mate. Then children come along. They make great company. It's one of the most wonderful things to happen to your life."
You don't need a degree in quantum physics to be a father. Any fool with a glint in his eye can qualify. But you do need something special to be a dad.
Tomorrow, after you have unwrapped socks, jocks, soap or neckties with the old 'Hey, just what I needed," you can run a proud eye over your progeny and hope that their report card rates you a D rather than an F.
I hear Barry Boettcher is getting his favourite choc-coated ginger again and I'm sure Beau Boettcher's dad will be thrilled with the drill.
When we were small boys, cheerful uncles would tousle our hair and ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Later, when we thought we had grown up, girls would use the same question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" as the perfect put-down to our best pick-up lines. We wanted to be pearl divers in Broome. None of us said that we wanted to be a dad. Yet, that most ordinary of callings remains the most extraordinary, and rewarding, of challenges.
Happy Father's Day.
"It's important that we dads who have sons sometimes invite their friends who do not have dads."
"If you just look around, you are sure to find a dad who sacrifices large chunks of himself, his time, his health, his interests for the sake of the kids. On the other hand, it's also very easy to hear about appalling dads."
10 Diabolical Dad Jokes
It’s a well-known but little understood hormonal phenomenon. With the onset of fatherhood, each dad mysteriously downloads a copy of The World’s Worst Joke Book to his onboard hard-drive. The suffering he then infl icts on his children is
the ultimate test of their love.
1. When rubbing your eye:
Dad: “What’s up?”
Kid: “There’s something in my eye.”
Dad: “Yeah, it’s your finger.”
2. After a large meal Dad says:
“Well that was nice, what’s for dinner?”
3. Kid: “Can I watch the TV?”
Dad: “Yes, but don’t turn it on.”
4. When driving past a cemetery: “They put the fence up to keep everyone in!”
5. On a motoring holiday.
Kids: “Where are we, Dad?”
Dad: “In the car.”
6. Dad before retiring to the bathroom for a No.2: “Give the sewage plant a ring; tell them to put on an extra shift!”
7. Mum: “Put the cat out.”
Dad: “I didn’t realise it was on fire.”
8. Daughter’s boyfriend: “Hi there, is Monica around?”
Dad: “No, she’s more of an oblong shape.”
9. Dad consoling kid when hurt: “Could have been worse – could have been me.”
10. “Pull my finger!”
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