Transcript for the Piece Audio version of Father's Day

Father’s Day Tape (PRW) ver6/16/04 FINAL
(Partial TAPE Transcription only)

I have a problem with fahter’s Day: Father’s day for everyone, will eventually become a ‘holiday’ to remind us of what’s missing.

My father died 10yrs ago. To mark the anniversary, I drove to LA where I grew-up to clear out my parents stuff I had in storage. My mother died a year after my dad. Overwhelmed at the time, I put a lot of things in storage. Things I thought I might want some day. Well, it’s someday.

I dive into boxes, into the past. My father was a journalist/writer and I kind of remember him having a cassette recorder. In one box I find bag of cassette tapes. A nervous excitement grows in me as I read the labels because recently I’ve become a journalist too—a radio journalist. One’s labeled “Jake 2 1/2”

[tape 1:14: “Can you say Daddy?” end: “…are you going to sleep tonight…for a change?”]

I was an overly documented only child. Shoe boxes cramed with silent photos: birthday’s, holidays, trips... But photos are essentially useless unless they’re labeled. I save a few but mostly there are lots of little me’s staring up from the trash can; they’re not saying anything. But listening to these tapes, it’s like I’m my dad, interviewing myself. I look at a photo of me, a curious 4yo…

[Tape 0:50: “October 10th, 1976. Why don’t you ask me what that is…can you say tape recorder?” “What is poopoo made of?” end: “OK, now do you want to hear yourself?”]

Later in the tape, my dad tells me I might be embarrassed by this someday when I’m older. You know, he’s right. And just to make sure I’m embarrassed by this tape later: PooPoo.

I used to ask my parents why they were saving all this stuff. My baby teeth, my macaroni art, stuffed animals, photo after photo. Sometimes they kept things I tried to throw away, like the time they stopped me from blowing up my Star Wars figures. “You might what these things someday.” They said as I held a match up to OB1.

I did find some of my action figures going through boxes ((but thanks to my dog at the time, most were missing their heads.)) I realize now that they weren’t saving these things for me, but for them. I was their son, they were proud of me. But they knew something I didn’t: I was not always going to be a child. And someday I’d take over the roll of preserving my past: choosing what I’ll keep.

[tape :42 : “Now it’s February 10th 1979 and Jake is going to be 7yo.” …”OK, all right.”]

The man on the tape died 10yrs ago, but the child is also gone. I don’t miss the child too much, but certain times I wish my dad were still around. Sometimes I’m forced to think about him when I don’t want to: like seeing ‘father’s day’ ads for tools, flashlight-radios and ties.

And after listening to my dad and I talking when I was young, I wish I could say to him what I saw today on the inside of a greeting card for kids who live too far from their parents: “Dad: Happy Father’s day, wish you were here.”

[Tape :34 “Anything else you’d like to say?”…“Come on old bean, it’s time to go to bed now, are you through?”]

The man on the tape died 10yrs ago, but so did the child, I’m now a grown-up—the same age as he was. When I take advantage of ‘father’s day’ sales for tools, flashlight-radios and ties; I’m kind of forced to think about him. I don’t mind throwing a lot of his stuff away because they’re just ‘things’. And things, like memories, will fade or be lost with time anyways. After listening to my dad on these tapes, I wish I could say to him what I saw today on the inside of a greeting card for kids who live too far from their parents: “Dad: Happy Father’s day, wish you were here.”