Things my father(s) taught me

  • Published
  • By Tech. Sgt. Mark Munsey
  • 379th Air Expeditionary Wing Public Affairs
SOUTHWEST ASIA (AFPN) --  All around the states this Sunday barbecue grills and big-screen TVs will be focal points for generations of family members celebrating the day designated just for their dad. Yet for most of us deployed and stationed around the world, the words ‘father’ and ‘farther’ are connected by more than just similar letters.

And since, in exchange for his several hundred dollars worth of hygiene-product- and salty-snack-heavy care packages sent to me here in Southwest Asia, I have already exhausted gift ideas by sending my pops the obligatory deployed location t-shirt and hat combo, I thought instead I would share a few lessons he and other fathers in my life have taught me.

My dad, Ev Munsey: ‘In sports it’s the name on front of your uniform jersey, not the one on the back, that counts.’

True greatness is a team effort. Like Dominique Wilkins, Michael Jordan was a great baller on a lousy team in the early and mid 80s. Unlike ‘Nique, MJ finally realized there would be no bling or any rings without accentuating the best attributes of his Chicago roster mates. Now Jordan is an icon and Wilkins does potato chip ads with Bill Walton. You do the math.

Think about your greatest ‘blue’ accomplishments. Are any of them truly a solo effort? Pay it forward.

Father Bob Cole, 3rd grade, St. John’s Elementary School, Laconia, N.H.: ‘Everyone deserves a chance … or two … or three.’

One Sunday Father Cole found himself sans altar boy minutes before mass started. Like Courtney Cox in that Springsteen video, I was pulled from the crowd (because ‘pulled from the pew’ is a tad seemly) for my first public performance. Mercifully, there was no dancing involved.

In a description that would become a life-long theme, I suddenly realized I had no idea what I was doing. As I got outfitted in garb meant for trained assistants four years my elder, Father Bob desperately tried to calm me. As I’m kneeling by the altar, he told me every time I saw him tap his right foot I was supposed to ring the little bell.

Seemed simple enough.

After the service ended, backstage if you will, I asked for some performance feedback (speaking of life-long lessons to avoid). He shared it was the first time he could say with absolute certainty that no one fell asleep during his mass, but when the entire congregation is collectively covering their ears, perhaps a gentler touch is in order.

He let me try again, repeatedly. I only wish I could say I got better…

Here in the desert, most of our daily duties are just skewed enough that everyone has a learning curve. Instead of letting the heat boil you over inside, why not take a moment to cool down and hate neither deployer nor the game.

James Brown, the Godfather of soul: ‘Be the hardest working person around.’

I had this video tape of him from a 60s concert, black and white and mere months before he lost his tailor to Vegas Elvis. Towards the end, he ‘shakes off the cape’ four times. That is an encore to the encore to the encore of the first encore if I do the math correctly. And the crowd was going certifiable.

What if we all approached our jobs that way, careening past standards-meeting duty performance by anticipating and providing what else our customer would want? I personally would pay handsomely to have the phrase ‘that’s not my job’ removed from the English language. Give it a shot. I am willing to bet you will get back more than you put in.

That is about it, except for a shout out to my pops. You gave me the greatest gift a father can give a son (besides a Porsche for graduation, but I’m just about over that). Along with my two brothers and sister, you helped to give us all a sense of self-identity.

But I still need more towels. And more salty-snack products, same mailing address.