Wednesday, November 30, 2011


I didn’t really look up to any sports figures when I was growing up. The other kids in school worshiped baseball, hockey, basketball or football players. I didn’t get it. Why should we admire and emulate some guy who’s main claim to fame is the ability to do some tricks with a ball or a stick?

I read a lot of S/F and Fantasy, and liked the works of many different writers. However, I realized pretty early on to separate their works and their personalities. There was always the suspicion that some of the writers I enjoyed would turn out to be jerks in real life. After I grew up and actually got to meet some of them, I learned that yeah, some are jerks. Some were just fine -pretty much like most any other group of people.

The closest thing I had to a hero was my dad. He was there for me. Dad taught me all about being a man. I learned how to be tough and how to fight. Dad’s a bad ass. I once saw him fight off a guy bigger than him and half his age, then stare down over 20 of the guy’s friends. He also taught me to never pick fights, but if you have to fight, finish it.

I learned how to treat women by watching my dad. He loved my mom and was unfailing loyal and supportive of her. His strongest contempt was for men who hit and abused women. In his eyes, that was the most unmanly thing a guy could do.

Dad taught me how to use tools and how to fix things. Just as important as the specific skills he imparted was the confidence to attempt things I never did before.

While my dad and I enjoyed a lot of the same things, I became interested in things he knew nothing about and didn’t understand. That was fine with him. He reserved judgment and encouraged me to discover things for myself.

Of course, dad being a real human being, he has his faults. Who doesn’t? Still, he’s the closest thing to a hero I’ve got. Not too bad for a guy I’ve known all my life. In a world where “heroes” have feet of clay, that’s saying a lot. I’ve been pretty lucky.



  1. I also consider that I am the man which my father taught me to be. With a few more skills and knowledge as should always be the case.

    Thank you dad...

  2. Good Morning Sixbears....First let me thank you for some informative and interesting reading for several months, without all the un-necessary gutter language several seem to think needed to embelish thier writings.
    Your writings today I must admit, made me get misty eyed as I think back on my hero that has long ago departed, yet remains near and dear to me daily. Oh how in these trying times I'd love to hear some of his few yet encouraging words again. My Dad was a stern, but honest and fair man and taught me so much during the 3 decades I was allowed to walk and learn with him. Thank you again for triggering the thoughts and memories of my #1 hero....Rusty

  3. Good post and my Dad was also my hero. I wasn't into sports like the balls; baseball, football, basketball, soccor, etc. I was into hunting and fishing or just being out in the woods. Other than my Dad, my heros were the old mountain men and of course Davy Crocket. . .

  4. Your Dad sounds like an awesome man, consider yourself fortunate to have had him as a role model and mentor. It sounds like you and he are still close - good for you!

    I had an awesome Dad too, he passed away 14 years ago, and I only hope I'm half the Dad to my children as we was to me. He let me make my own mistakes, only butting in when he thought I needed some 'redirection'. I'm very hardheaded and he recognized that correcting too early would only cause me to go even harder the wrong way. I now recognize the wisdom in his actions.

  5. Yeah, my Dad is someone I have always looked up to. He is the quiet "lead by example" type. Never harsh. Knows how to work hard and play hard. A man of many talents; resourceful and inquisitive. I guess a little bit of him rubbed off on me. My temper, well that's my Mom's fault : )

  6. ...not lucky Brother...Blessed

    ...i know we've all noticed,that the ones who are Keepers of The Faith,come from strong paternal influences...

    ...the ol'man was the same way,never seen him start shit...but man would he finish it...once when i was eight years old,he bit a mans ear off,Dad went to fightin'cuz dude cursed in front of a shit,if just the guys around,anything goes...but no foul language in front of the women