My eighty-five-year-old father wants to be an Uber driver.
You chuckle at the absurdity of this statement. At eighty-five most people have long given up their precious driver’s licenses. They have, of necessity, given in to the decline of sight, hearing, and reflexes. Not my father.
My dad had a tough upbringing, raised during the Depression in the stereotypical single mother scenario. My father had to face challenges his entire life. I won’t list them here. He never wanted pity, only an opportunity to work hard and create a better life for his family.
In order to best describe my dad I will ask you to recall the character Clint Eastwood portrayed in Gran Torino. My father is not politically correct. He believes one of the greatest things wrong with America is political correctness. “Tell it like it is… if something smells say it smells!” And like Clint’s character in the movie he has a very nice lawn that happens to be on the main road sans sidewalk. He may not threaten you with a shotgun if your dog poops on it, but he has a hose and he’s not afraid to use it.
Which brings me back to the Uber driver conversation. After a long explanation of what an app was and how this particular one worked, my father sat back in his recliner and became thoughtful. We could see his mind working. He had driven every type of car and delivery truck during his lifetime. He knew the New Jersey highway system like the back of his hand. What a great way to earn a little money on the side to supplement Social Security and V.A. benefits.
“I could do that,” he said with confidence. “I’ve been a professional driver all my life.”
Imagine the scenario. I can hear my dad muttering about the “bananas” driving on the Turnpike on the trip to the airport. Wondering aloud why taxpayers had to pay for five construction workers to stare into a hole on the side of the road. Complaining to his incredulous passengers about the traffic while Johnny Cash plays on the car stereo. Or, for a change of pace, perhaps he would treat his passengers to the bagpipes. The Black Watch is my personal favorite, a relaxing selection of sweet melodies he blasted when we were kids to get us up in the morning. The consensus is that his career as an Uber driver would either last for one day, or he would become famous and be featured on 60 Minutes. Either way, my father is honest about who he is. His life was dedicated to making his children’s future brighter. I never saw anyone work harder or fight harder for the American Dream.
So what do you give a man like this for Father’s Day? My dad likes to eat, so this is easy. I will send him a selection from Omaha Steaks. He reminded me the last time that he really liked the malt ball ice cream.
I haven’t talked about my husband, the amazing father to my children. He is a modest, unselfish man who loves his family first and Rutgers University second… especially the football team. This fall he will be taking a couple of trips up to games, and my gift to him is the correct size carry-on. His job is to find one he likes, and Nordstrom has a great selection to choose from. He also gets to pick the Italian meal he wants, eggplant or ziti. With meatballs, of course.
How about the dad in your life? My number one suggestion is a Shinola watch. Made in Detroit, it is a quality timepiece with a classic, clean clock face. It comes in many colors and strap combinations. I am happy to help you choose the perfect watch for the dad in your life.
Happy Father’s Day from your Nordstrom jewelry stylist,
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