Now that I'm 40

At some point I realized I am Alex P. Keaton. I am referring to the character on that sitcom we all watched. I'm not as Right Wing as he was and his parents aren't as Left Wing as my parents were.

My parents were hippies. Not just went to Woodstock hippies but real, change the world, fight the man, peace on earth hippies. My mother edited Timothy Leary's first book about LSD. My Dad's best friend, Dave Solomon, wrote the first published full length article discussing LSD for a main stream magazine, it was Esquire, in case you were wondering. My parents tripped with the help of Timothy Leary.
My father went further than that. He was a communist during the McCarthy Era. He watched his friends being railroaded and black listed. His first father- in- law was fired from NYU for refusing to name people who were known communist sympathizers. My father himself was black listed from teaching art in any school in New York City. He went further than that.
He and his first wife moved to Montana to work in a smelter. To be part of the collective. A smelter. I can imagine having a lot of different jobs that are miserable. In fact I keep a list in my mind of jobs that I absolutely would never, ever want to do. It's a game I play, my favorite job I wouldn't want to do is be that guy who has to drive real slow behind wide loads with his blinkers on. The second thing on that list is work in a smelter. Dirty, dangerous, backbreaking work. While doing this job in Montana my Dad held a degree in fine art. Remarkable man, my dad.
I have never felt that passionately about anything. To be honest, I don't know anyone else who is that passionate about anything.
Maybe the feelings are there, but the action... not so much.
My Dad would sometimes say "Dove, you're so straight!" He couldn't quite understand how that had happened. Seriously, I'm not that straight. Shake his head. Not dissapointed really, but baffled.
I had a traditional wedding, he wore red converse sneakers with his tuxedo. He thought my having a wedding was ridiculous. But, when the whole thing was over he pulled me aside and said "that was a real good party Dove." When we lived in the suburbs and he came to visit, he told me he found the neighborhood where I lived "dismally depressing." I think soul sucking may have been another description.
When my dad retired he moved from NYC to New Hampshire and lived up there until he died 2 months ago. He became an amazing gardener, all organic of course. Opted not to have any indoor plumbing. Chopped all his own wood, until he got sick. Hauled water from the well, painted amazing paintings and listened to NPR all day and kept on top of all the news. He probably could have told you what was going on in the world with pretty damn good analysis right up until the day he died. After he was diagnosed with cancer, he joined a peace group and went every weekend to a peace vigil. He planted apple trees on his land that he knew he would never see bear fruit. He planted those for me.
I find now in this middle part of my life that I am swinging back towards that way of life that I came from. I am less up tight with my children, I try now to give them freedom to express themselves and I try to be honest with them. It was how I was raised. I try not to judge people, everyone has a story, and we are all in this together. It was how I was raised. How far away I strayed from the fundamentals of my value system.
My father lived his life on his own terms. Lived it with integrity and honesty.
I hope to do exactly that.